COLUMBIA  LIBRARIES  OFFSITE 

AVERY  FINE  ARTS  RESTRICTED 


AR00880558 


|  LEGENDS,  STORIES  AND  FOLKLORE 
OF  OLD  STATEN  ISLAND 


THE  NORTH  SHORE 


IEx  lOthria 


SEYMOUR  DURST 


When  you  leave,  please  leave  this  hook 

Because  it  has  heen  said 
"Sver'thing  comes  t'  him  who  waits 

Except  a  loaned  hook." 


Avery  Architectural  and  Fine  Arts  Library 
Gu  t  of  Seymour  B.  Durst  Old  York  Library 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2014 


https://archive.org/details/legendsstoriesfoOOhine 


Legends,  Stories  and  Folklore 
of  Old  Staten  Island 


By 

CHARLES  GILBERT  HINE 

and 

WILLIAM  T.  DAVIS 


PART  I -THE  NORTH  SHORE 

From  Printed  Records,  Manuscripts  and 
the  Memories  of  the  Older  Inhabitants 


PUBLISHED  BY 
THE  STATEN  ISLAND  HISTORICAL  SOCIETY 

FEBRUARY.  1925 


THE 
NORTH  SHORE 


HINE  PUBLISHING  CO..  52  DUANE  ST.,  NEW  YORK 


Foreword 


The  North  Shore  stretches  from  St.  George  to  the  Eliza- 
bethport  ferry,  and  the  Richmond  Terrace  is  its  main  thorough- 
fare. 

Beyond  a  few  Revolutionary  scraps,  the  history  of  the  re- 
gion from  St.  George  to  West  New  Brighton  practically  dates 
from  about  1830.  The  suddenness  and  completeness  of  the 
change  from  a  sparsely  settled  farming  region  to  one  of  urban 
life,  which  swept  out  the  descendants  of  the  first  land  owners 
and  swept  in  the  butterflies  from  New  York  and  the  South, 
making  of  this  North  shore  the  most  fashionable  resort  in  the 
country,  seems  to  have  largely  obliterated  tales  of  the  early  set- 
tlers as  they  had  already  swamped  Indian  tradition. 

Before  1830  there  was  no  shore  road  at  New  Brighton  be- 
yond, possibly,  the  remains  of  the  old  Indian  footpath  which 
skirted  the  water.  The  only  means  of  reaching  the  water  were 
the  farm  lanes  that  came  down  from  the  interior. 

The  golden  age  of  this  part  of  the  Island,  in  fact  of  the 
northern  half  of  the  Island,  dawned  in  the  thirties  with  the  ad- 
vent of  Thomas  E.  Davis,  who  came,  saw  and  purchased  lib- 
erally of  the  hill  country,  now  known  as  New  Brighton.  Mr. 
Davis  platted  his  property  with  the  laudable  purpose  of  selling 
lots,  and  thereby  doing  well  by  himself.  Among  others  he  laid 
out  the  Richmond  Terrace  or  Shore  Road  in  New  Brighton. 
Mr.  Davis  was  unsuccessful,  and  eventually  the  New  Brighton 
Association  was  formed  in  1836  to  take  over  the  property. 

In  Captain  Marryat's  "Diary  in  America"  (1839)  occurs  the 
following  passage: 

"At  Staten  Island,  at  the  entrance  into  the  Sound,  an  estate 
was  purchased  by  some  speculators  for  ten  thousand  dollars, 
was  divided  into  lots,  and  planned  as  a  town  to  be  called  New 
Brighton ;  and  had  the  whole  of  the  lots  been  sold  at  the  price 
at  which  many  were  previous  to  the  crash,  the  original  specu- 
lators would  have  realized  three  million  of  dollars." 

The  Richmond  Terrace  of  today  is  rather  depressing  to  one 
who  has  in  mind  its  past  glories  and  beauties.   Before  the 


4 


NORTH  SHORE 


grimy  and  ill-smelling  factories  of  Bayonne  arrived  in  these 
parts,  and  before  what  Eugene  Field  called  "the  bumptious  B. 
&  O."  came  to  bind  the  shore  in  its  iron  grip,  this  was  the  most 
beautiful  road  in  the  country — embowered  in  tall  trees,  its 
equipages  drawn  by  the  best  the  stables  could  supply  and 
adorned  with  the  youth,  beauty  and  fashion  of  the  day. 

The  hillsides  were  dotted  with  the  enormous  homes  in  which 
the  rich  of  those  days  indulged.  Southern  planters  came  up 
and  swarmed  the  hotels  during  the  warm  months.  In  fact,  so 
fashionable  did  this  region  become  that  anyone  who  was  any- 
one was  sure  to  get  his  name  on  one  or  other  of  the  hotel  regis- 
ters. 

Literary  West  New  Brighton  followed  hard  on  the  heels  of 
fashionable  New  Brighton. 

Port  Richmond  which,  under  various  names  had  been  a 
ferry  landing  and  settlement  since  the  early  days,  now  took 
unto  itself  its  share  of  the  new  migrants  and  the  prosperity 
which  followed  in  their  trail. 

Mariners'  Harbor  and  adjacent  parts  became  the  headquar- 
ters of  the  Oyster  aristocrats. 

The  history  of  each  section  is  singularly  individual  and  in- 
teresting. Possibly  no  other  stretch  of  so  few  miles  in  the 
country  can  show  as  diverse  reasons  for  being. 

The  following  disconnected  scraps  have  been  gathered  dur- 
ing a  considerable  number  of  years.  They  cover  story,  family 
history  and  folklore  of  the  region.  Material  already  printed 
has  been  used  sparingly  except  in  the  case  of  newspaper  arti- 
cles that  would  not  otherwise  be  easily  accessible.  It  is  not  pos- 
sible to  mention  all  of  those  who  have  contributed,  but  it  is 
fitting  that  a  few  who  have  given  largely  should  be  recorded; 
these  include  Mrs.  George  William  Curtis,  Mrs.  William  G. 
Willcox  and  her  brother  Mr.  Martin  Gay,  Mr.  Louis  P.  Grata- 
cap,  Mr.  Cornelius  G.  Kolff,  Mr.  Edward  C.  Delavan,  Jr.,  Mr. 
Charles  W.  Leng,  Mr.  Royden  W.  Vosburgh,  Mr.  Calvin  D. 
Van  Name,  Mr.  Azel  F.  Merrill,  Mr.  Matthias  De  Hart  and  Mr. 
C.  E.  Simonson. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


5 


STATEN  ISLAND  IN  1839 

[Copied  from  the  "Corsair,"  by  the  "Richmond  County  Mir- 
ror" of  July  20,  1839.] 

"As  for  Staten  Island,  the  interior  is  actually  little  known, 
and  so  rarely  visited  by  our  citizens,  and  the  Islanders  so  homo- 
genous and  primitive  in  their  ideas,  that  they  speak  of  us  as 
Foreigners ! 

"  'We  don't  want  any  Forners  coming  in  here  to  meddle  in 
our  polities',  said  a  worthy  islander  to  an  itinerant  politician 
of  his  own  party  who  went  down  from  Brooklyn  to  reconnoitre 
the  state  of  the  land. 

"'Do  you  ever  have  strangers  settling  among  you  here?' 
asked  a  gentleman  of  another. 

"  'Very  few  except  the  Forners  from  New  York  who  have 
stuck  themselves  against  the  hillside  at  New  Brighton,  and  a 
small  sprinkling  about  Stapleton  and  the  Quorten',  was  the  re- 
ply. 

"These  people  living  within  two  hours  of  New  York,  con- 
stitute one  of  the  most  peculiar  classes  of  independent  yeo- 
manry to  be  found  in  the  United  States.  Their  farms  are  of 
small  extent,  but  are  highly  cultivated  and  enriched  with  a  prod- 
igality of  fruit  trees,  and  their  neat  white-washed  cottages, 
many  of  which  were  built  by  the  French  Huguenots,  by  whom 
Staten  Island  was  chiefly  settled,  are  held  by  the  descendants 
of  the  original  owners  to  this  day.  The  majority  of  the  people 
unite  fishing  with  farming  as  a  means  of  livelihood,  and  ex- 
tending their  settlements  around  the  shores  of  the  island,  they 
have  left  so  much  of  the  forest  remaining  in  the  centre  that  it 
even  yet  furnishes  material  for  one  or  two  saw-mills,  which 
still  ply  their  trade  in  the  interior  within  a  few  miles  of  New 
Brighton.  Now,  these  woods  and  fields,  intersected  here  and 
there  by  winding  roads,  offer  some  of  the  most  delightful 
drives,  extensive  water  prospects,  and  varied  rural  landscapes 
to  be  found  in  any  part  of  the  country.  The  roads,  too,  are  ex- 
cellent, and  the  fruits  newly  gathered,  and  fish  fresh  from  the 
sea,  make  the  Inns  to  which  they  lead  more  or  less  attractive. 
And  yet,  near  by  and  accessible  as  it  is  from  town,  how  few  of 
our  citizens  who  have  a  day  to  spend  ever  think  of  devoting  it 
to  an  excursion  through  the  interior  of  Staten  Island.  How 
few,  in  fact,  have  the  least  idea  that  in  two  hours'  time  they  can 


6 


NORTH  SHORE 


shake  off  the  noisome  airs  of  the  city  and  enjoy  the  sea  breeze 
in  one  of  the  most  beautiful  farming  districts  of  the  State.  For 
such  really  is  the  southern  side  of  the  Island. 

"Mr.  Wills'  deputy  seems  to  think  he  is  the  only  New 
Yorker  who  knows  anything  about  our  island.  We  would  ad- 
vise him  to  claim  the  territory  by  right  of  discovery  and  ex- 
pel the  present  occupants  on  the  plea  of  their  being  uncivilized, 
and  therefore  not  entitled  to  an  abiding  place  this  side  of  the 
Mississippi." 

"Ed.  Mirror." 

St.  George 

As  the  adoption  of  the  name  St.  George  marks  to  some  ex- 
tent the  beginning  of  the  commercial  era,  it  might  be  well  to 
give  Erastus  Wiman's  explanation  of  the  origin  of  the  name. 
When  this  was  purely  a  region  of  homes  no  one  regarded  the 
land  under  water  along  this  shore  as  of  value,  but  George  Law 
who  saw  its  future  possibilities  proceeded  to  buy  it  up  at  prices 
that  were  merely  nominal.  In  the  early  eighties  came  Erastus 
Wiman  with  his  scheme  for  centralizing  the  ferry  landings, 
and  instead  of  having  six  to  eight,  as  was  then  the  case,  to 
bring  them  all  together  at  one  point.  The  place  now  known  as 
St.  George  he  thought  best,  and  explained  his  scheme  to  Law, 
and  secured  from  him  an  option  on  the  water  front.  This  ex- 
pired before  the  plan  could  be  worked  out,  but  Law  renewed 
it.  When,  however,  Wiman  wanted  it  renewed  a  second  time, 
Law  objected  and  resisted  all  of  the  former's  arguments  and 
coaxing  until  the  first  named  finally  said,  "George,  if  you  will 
give  me  that  option  I  will  canonize  you."  "What  do  you  mean 
by  'canonize'  me,"  answered  Law.  "I  will  name  the  place  St. 
George"  was  the  response.  That  put  Law  in  a  good  humor 
and  he  granted  Wiman's  request  for  the  third  option,  and  so 
came  St.  George  to  Staten  Island. 

The  St.  George  Waterfront 

If  the  kind  reader  will  stand  on  the  bridge  leading  to  the  St. 
George  ferry  and,  ignoring  the  crass  commercialism  that  so  of- 
fends, will  allow  his  imagination  to  roam  over  a  gently  sloping 
greensward,  dotted  with  trees  and  gray  granite  boulders,  he 
will  note  clean  waters  laving  the  shores  of  a  beautiful,  un- 
spoiled point ;  will  observe  the  biy  covered  with  a  multitude  of 
sailing  craft,  small  and  large,  careening  to  the  fresh  breeze  or, 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


7 


with  idly  hanging  sails  sending  long  and  beautiful  reflections 
across  the  smooth  surface  almost  to  his  feet,  he  will  carry  a 
much  better  impression  of  what  this  point  once  was  than  he 
can  possibly  receive  from  any  mere  pen  picture.  And  he  can 
also  the  more  readily  realize  why  the  idle  rich  seized  upon  this 
spot  at  an  early  date  for  a  playground. 

The  low  land  of  the  St.  George  waterfront  that  is  now  criss- 
crossed with  railroad  tracks  was  formerly  nearly  on  a  level 
with  the  Richmond  Terrace.  Before  the  Civil  War  this  point 
was  known  as  Camp  Washington.  Newspapers  record  the  fact 
that  the  Quickstep  Baseball  Club  had  a  game  at  Camp  Wash- 
ington on  Thanksgiving  day  in  1859.  The  place  was  used  dur- 
ing the  war  as  a  training  ground  for  recruits,  beginning  with 
Wilson's  Zouaves  in  May,  1861,  and  ending  with  the  First  Na- 
tional Regiment  in  September,  1862.  During  this  period  six- 
teen regiments  were  licked  into  shape  here.  In  1873,  the  Staten 
Island  Cricket  and  Baseball  Club  was  organized  here.  Many  of 
the  important  cricket  games  in  this  country  were  played  on 
these  grounds.  The  club  held  sway  here  for  twelve  years.  On 
January  18,  1885,  the  club  purchased  the  property  near  the  foot 
of  Bard  Avenue  and  about  the  same  time  transferred  its  old 
grounds  to  the  railroad. 

Following  the  Cricket  Club,  came  Erastus  Wiman  and  his 
Staten  Island  Amusement  Co.  (Unlimited).  Here  were 
grounds  for  baseball  and  ballet  shows  for  those  so  inclined. 
There  was  a  "Fountain  of  Illuminated  Water"  imported  from 
London  at  a  cost  of  $25,000.  The  Seventh  Regiment  band  of 
sixty  pieces  led  by  Cappa  furnished  music.  A  grand  stand 
from  which  to  view  baseball  and  other  games  was  erected  at  a 
cost  of  $35,000,  ''the  largest  and  handsomest  in  America."  A 
dining  hall  that  would  serve  one  thousand  persons  at  a  time 
was  part  of  the  outfit ;  the  partitions  on  the  upper  floors  of  this 
were  made  of  glass  that  the  occupants  might  have  an  unob- 
structed view  of  the  Upper  Bay. 

The  Amusement  Company  owned  the  franchise  of  the  Met- 
ropolitan Baseball  Club,  the  "Mets",  and  this  was  their  home 
ground.  The  opening  game,  with  the  Athletics  of  Philadel- 
phia, took  place  April  22,  1885.  before  nearly  7,000  people. 

When  the  "Mets"  were  en  tour  lacrosse  games  were  staged 
that  Manhattanites  might  not  get  out  of  the  habit  of  journey- 
ing down  this  way.  These  visitors  contributed  to  the  wealth  of 
those  interested  from  the  moment  they  stepped  on  the  boat  at 


8 


NORTH  SHORE 


New  York  until  they  were  returned  to  its  home  shores.  There 
was  the  transportation  fare,  the  eats  in  that  wonderful  rest- 
aurant as  well  as  a  ticket  to  the  game,  and,  last  but  not  least, 
came  all  the  sideshows  instituted  for  the  purpose  of  enticing 
any  dimes  and  quarters  that  the  larger  attractions  might  have 
overlooked. 

It  was  here,  in  1887,  that  the  Kiralfys  put  on  their  great 
spectacular  production,  "The  Fall  of  Babylon",  followed  dur- 
ing the  summer  of  1888  by  "The  Fall  of  Rome".  These  fell  and 
fell  and  fell,  and  it  is  said  the  gate  receipts  fell  likewise.  There 
were  many  girls  in  marching  columns  picked  out  by  the  lime- 
light, a  riot  of  color  and  very  much  noise.  However,  one  of  our 
Staten  Island  nature  lovers  avers  that  "They  were  great  shows, 
though  no  better  than  a  sunset". 

While  Babylon  was  in  the  nightly  process  of  falling,  the 
band  played  a  mournful  dirge  that  still  lingers  in  memory's 
ears.  Such  of  those  still  with  us  who  were  fishing  from  the 
rocks  hereabouts,  or  were  spending  a  sheltered  evening  on  a 
friendly  veranda  in  the  vicinity,  can  still  recall  the  slow  music 
that  helped  Babylon  to  fall. 

The  Duxbury  Glebe 

And  now  having  explained  how  St.  George  came  to  Staten 
Island  we  will  turn  backward  to  the  time  when  this  was  the 
northeasternmost  portion  of  the  plantation  of  Colonel  Francis 
Lovelace,  the  second  English  governor  of  New  York  (1668). 
This  plantation  extended  at  least  as  far  as  Palmer's  Run.  Love- 
lace was  arrested  for  debt  and  his  property  confiscated.  In 
1 69 1,  Ellis  Duxbury  received  a  patent  for  this  portion  of  the  Is- 
land, reaffirmed  in  1708.  In  17 18  Duxbury  died  having  devised 
his  farm  to  the  minister,  church  wardens  and  vestry  of  St.  An- 
drew in  the  County  of  Richmond,  this  being  later  known  as 
Duxbury  Glebe.  In  18 14  a  law  was  passed  permitting  St.  An- 
drew's to  sell  the  Glebe,  and  in  181 5  all  that  portion  lying  north 
of  the  Richmond  Turnpike  and  a  large  part  of  that  lying  south 
of  the  Turnpike  was  conveyed  to  Daniel  D.  Tompkins.  In 
1823  St.  Andrew's  church  foreclosed  the  mortgage  given  by 
Mr.  Tompkins  and  bought  the  property  in,  but  in  1824  recon- 
veyed  the  north  portion  of  the  Glebe  to  Tompkins. 

Under  date  of  May  30,  1814,  the  following  appears  in  the 
minutes  of  the  vestry  of  the  church  of  St.  Andrew's:  "May 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


9 


th  30  Sold  to  Govenor  D.  D.  Tomkins  88  Acres  of  Gletb  Land 
for  2642  Dollars.  Joseph  Bedell  Clerk."  A  few  pages  further  on 
in  the  same  old  book  is  the  following  entry:  "May  1,  1815  the 
Rector  Wardens  and  Vestry  have  given  a  deed  to  Govenor 
Daniel  D.  Tompkins  of  ninetv  Four  Acres  three  Rods  and 
Eight  perches  for  the  Sum  of  Eleven  thousand  eight  hundred 
and  Fifty  Dollars  which  they  have  taken  a  mortgage  for  of  this 
date  of  Glebe  Farm 

$11850  Joseph  Bedell  Clerk  of  vestry." 

The  First  House 

Clute  states  that  there  was  a  tradition  that  one  of  the  first 
dwelling:,  on  Staten  Island  was  built  of  brick,  brought  from 
Holland,  and  was  situated  on  the  heights  of  New  Brighton, 
and  if  there  is  any  truth  in  it,  the  house  was  probably  built 
by  de  Vries,  who  on  January  5,  1639,  began  the  first  settlement 
on  the  Island. 

Port  Hill 

During  the  British  occupation  of  Staten  Island  a  fort  was 
erected  on  what  is  now  known  as  Fort  Hill ;  at  the  head  of  Fort 
Place,  back  of  the  Borough  Hall,  a  bit  of  the  earth  work  still 
remains,  but  the  brick  vaults  are  modern.  In  one  of  the  raids 
on  Staten  Island  American  soldiers  appeared  before  this  fort, 
which  was  known  as  Fort  Knyphausen,  but  the  snow  of  Janu- 
ary, 1780,  was  knee  deep  and  the  defenses  appeared  so  formida- 
ble that  no  attack  was  made.  This  appears  to  have  been  the 
only  attempt  to  assault  the  fort. 

A  Few  Names 

Many  names  of  well  known  New  Yorkers  appear  as  early 
residents:  Daniel  Low.  who  owned  a  large  tract  on  Fort  Hill, 
which  included  at  least  a  part  of  the  fort,  John  C.  Green,  Anson 
Phelps  Stokes,  George  Wotherspoon,  Judge  P.  T.  Ruggles  and 
others.  That  part  of  the  Richmond  Terrace  from  about  Hamil- 
ton Avenue  was  known  as  Jay  Street. 

Hvatt  Street 


In  deeds  of  1846  and  1854  what  is  now  known  as  Hyatt 
Street  is  referred  to  as  the  "Old  Shore  Road",  for  at  that  time 


IO 


NORTH  SHORE 


the  shore  road,  the  present  Bay  Street,  did  not  continue  along 
the  shore  but  turned  up  the  hill.  Hyatt  Street  is  said  to  be  one 
of  the  widest  streets  on  Staten  Island,  and  the  way  of  it  was 
this :  Martin  Wiener  bought  the  Quarantine  property  and  put 
Central  Avenue  through.  South  Street,  which  leads  down  to 
the  Brooklyn  ferry,  extended  up  the  hill  on  a  diagonal,  joining 
Hyatt  above  the  present  Central  Avenue.  This  left  a  triangu- 
lar plot  between  the  two.  Wiener  proposed  an  exchange  to  the 
village  trustees,  they  to  give  him  the  lower  part  of  this  triangle 
for  the  upper  end  of  South  Street.  This  was  agreed  to  and  re- 
sulted in  the  widening  of  Hyatt  Street.  The  agreement  ap- 
pears, however,  never  to  have  been  ratified  by  the  trustees  of 
the  Village  of  New  Brighton  and  as  a  result  title  to  the  prop- 
erty is  said  to  be  clouded.  That  is  possibly  the  reason  why  the 
Library  building  is  set  so  far  from  Hyatt  Street.  Hyatt  was 
the  family  name  of  the  mother  of  Daniel  D.  Tompkins. 

"Honest  John  Thompson" 

John  C.  Thompson,  known  as  "Honest  John  Thompson," 
whose  property  was  bounded  by  Tompkins  Avenue  (now  St. 
Marks  Place),  Hyatt  Street  and  Stuyvesant  Place,  was  one  of 
those  rare  men  who  have  the  courage  of  their  convictions  and 
who  did  that  for  Staten  Island  which  deserves  more  than  pass- 
ing notice.  The  political  gang  that  ruled  Staten  Island  about 
60  years  ago  was  running  things  with  a  very  high  hand  when 
Honest  John  put  a  spoke  in  its  wheel.  But  even  before  that  he 
was  one  of  the  prominent  leaders  in  the  burning  of  Quarantine ; 
in  fact,  had  the  honor  to  be  arrested  with  Ray  Tompkins  and 
put  in  jail  over  night  because  of  his  leadership. 

But  it  was  his  attack  on  the  politicians  that  gave  him  his 
sobriquet  of  "Honest  John".  Truthful  James  had  nothing  on 
Mr.  Thompson  for  plain  talk,  as  witness  the  following  broad- 
side which  with  others  of  like  pungency,  supplemented  with 
newspaper  articles,  resulted  in  an  investigation  that  clouded 
the  title  of  more  than  one  to  his  golden  harp. 

The  Board  of  Supervisors  was  compelled  to  take  notice,  and 
in  February,  1867,  it  issued  a  report  on  an  examination  of  the 
treasurer's  books,  showing  many  errors  which  seem  always  to 
have  been  against  the  county,  and  finding  that  he  was  indebted 
to  the  county  for  moneys  received  and  not  credited,  false 
charge  of  percentage,  etc.,  to  the  extent  of  $24,951.67,  probably 
a  very  small  portion  of  the  loot. 


J.  O.  THOMPSON 


TQ 


TAXPAYERS  OF  RICHMOND  CO 


My  Friends:— You  are  again  called  on  to  choose  a 
Coonty  Treasurer  for  the  next  three  years  from  Jan.  I, 
1867.  On  the  subject  of  your  choice  I  desire  to  Mf  a 
Few  words  to  all,  Uing  alike  interested  with  yon  in  see- 
ing what  becomes  of  the  money  we  annually  pay  into 
the  Treasury.  We  all  know  our  taxes  have  been  in- 
creasing year  after  year  for  the  past  six  years  ;  so  let 
us  look  into  the  Treasurer's  accounts..  The  present 
Treasurer  says  he  "  varied  nine  yearx  to  get  into  that 
office now  I  hold,  a  good  ineciiauic,  with  a  good 
business,  must  be  hard  up  for  an  office  that  wil]  work 
nine  years  and  then  give  up  his  business  tor  a  place 
worth  (if  he  takes  no  more  than  the  law  allows  him)  $5110 
a  vcar.  There  must  be  something  loo*e  laving  around 
in  that  office  or  good  moeepiugx  and  picking*  to  induce 
a  man  to  work  nine  years  to  get  it,  and  ihen  to  spend 
lar^e  sinus  to  keep  it  for  three  yearx  more. 

Now  I  will  show  you  from  his  own  l»ooks  why  he  can 
afford  to  pay  out  very  large  sums  to  bur  up  the  Demo- 
cratic County  Convention  to  secure  his  nomination,  and 
to  spend  large  sums  to  insure  his  election  for  the  next 
term.  (Whether  he  is  using  our  money  or  his  own  I 
leave  you  to  judge).  Yoa  all  know  I  have  examined 
and  -  thoroughly  exposed  the  swindling  acts  of  the 

King"  Board  of  riupervisors,  of  which  the  County 
Treasurer  was  the  ring-leader.  It  was  the  discovery 
of  their  base  attempt  to  swindle  the  Couhty  out  of 
about  $40,(100  on  the  lirst  contract  lor  men  for  the 
war  which  led  me  to  examine  the  condition  of  our 
County  finan«cs  since  he  has  been  Treasurer,  and  when 
you  examine  rheiu  carefully,  you  will  see  why  he  worked 
nine  years  to  get  into  the  office,  and  then  paid  himself 
well  for  the  privilege  of  taking  care  of  our  money.  I 
want  you  to  remember  that  the  statements  here  made 
are  taken  from  his  ovni  books,  and  I  defy  him,  nay,  1 
dare  him  to  show  that  they  »re  any  different  from  what 
I  tftatc. 

He  went  into  office  Jan.  1,  1861.  The  first  year  he 
kept  his  accounts  pretty  nearly  correct,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  charging  the  County  with  §27,761. ^or  State  tax, 
while  he  only  paid  out  to  the  State  $20,472  72,  keep- 
ing the  balance  over  till  the  next  year,  thus  bringing 
the  County  in  his  debt  $1,453,  for  which  he  got  a 
voucher  on  his  first  settlement  with  the  Supervisors, 
while  he  actually  had  in  hand  $9,525.  I  will  now  show 
you  how  he  charged. and  credited  his  school  money  ac- 
count, and  then  you  can  judge  as  well  as  I  if  be  is 
rhJa  or  I  am  wrong.  1  claim  (hat  he  has  overcharged 
the  Couuty  $18,803  71  on  school  money  alone.  Don't 
forget  that  these  figures  arc  taken  from  bis  own  .account 
and  they  are  his  own  words  and  figures  : 
Statement  showing  bow  the  Treasurer  has  changed  and 

credited  the  schooi  monies  to  the  County  for  the 

years  lSGl-^-'S-^-'S. 


1861.— Charged  to  the  County. 

Paid  Supervisor  of  Xorthfield  $1,419  63 

14  Middietown   1,889  51 

44  Southfield   735  40 

M  M  Weslfieid   1,146  00 

44  Castleton   1.579  16 

Total  school  charged  to  Couuty  in  IS61  $6,769  72 

Cr.     By  total  apportionment  from  State  for' 

echooj  money  $6,770  30 

The  account  of  1861  is  evidently  correct. 
Now  LOOK  AT 

1SR2.— Charged  to  the  County 

IVid  to  Supervisor  of  Westfield  $1,100  10 

Northfield   1,579  15 

44  Southfield   794  76 

44  Middietown   2,122  72 

Castleton   1,631  37 

Amount  charged  as  paid  to  Supervisors. . .  .$i,228  10 
'  11 K    again    charges — Total   amount  school 

money  paid  to  towns  ••••  $7,226  10 

Whole  sum  ^charged  to  County  in  1862.  ..  .$14,454  20 

Now  xee  hix  Credit  for  1862. 
Cr.     By  credit  of  school  moneys  from  State 

authorities  $6,546  30 


Amount  overcharged  to  County  in  1862..  .$7,909  9o 
lie  actually  received  $7,226  10  from  the  State  for 

schools.    Why  credit  the  County  short  $*'»79  80  ? 
Here  is  th».  accouut  lor 

1863. — Charged  to  County. 

Paid  to  Supervisor  of  Middietown  .$2,203  62 

41  '4  Northficld  -..  1,506  03 

44  44  Westfield  '.   1,087  40- 

Southfield   792  16 

14  44  Castleton   1,658  56 


Total  charged  as  paid  to  Supervisors. ....  .$7,247  77 

Hk  again  charges — Total  amount  paid  for 

school  monevs   7,247  77 

Whole  amount  of  school  moneys  charged  to  —  

the  County  in  1863  $14,495  54 

Cr.    From  State  School  money  from  $  mill 

tax,  and  Free  School  lund,  credited  on 

State  tax  by  transfer    7,247  77 

Amount  overcharged  to  Coanty  in  1863.  .  ..$7,247  77 
In  1863  the  school  money  is  credited  right,  as 
in  1861.  J£% 

(OYER.) 


1864. — Charged  to  the  County. 

Paid  to  the  Supervisor  of  Southfield   $726  47 

"  4t  Castleton..   1,616  63 

«  44  Middletown. . . ... .  2,2 1 5  05 

"  Westfield  ........  1,079  24 

Northfield   1,599  89 


Total  charged  to  the  Supervisors  in  1864..  .$7,237  28 
Nothing  charged  in  a  lump  to  the  County  in  1864, 
«s  he  did  in  l862-'3 

Being  more  closely  watched  in  1864,  the  Treasurer 
changed  the  mode  of  keeping  his  accounts  this  year 
(1864)  and  as  he  received  $28,473  58  for  State  taxes 
levied  in  1863  to  be  paid  out  in  1864,  the  account 
stands  thus : 

Paid  to'the  Comptroller  State  tax  $23,960  52 

Paid  to  himself,  fees,  one  percent   242  02 

Paid  school  moneys  to  the  Supervisors  of 

the  several  towns    7,237  28 

Total  charged  to  the  County  in  1864.  .V..  .$31,439  82 
Or. — By' State- tax-  levied  in  1863  to  be  paid 

out  in  '64   28,473  58 

Amount  overcharged  the  County  in  1864.  2,966  24 
Here  he  should  have  credited  the  "deficiency 
f  mill  tax,"  and  the  amount  he  received  from  the  com- 
mon school  fund,  $2,966  24.  You  will  find  he  credited 
these  tv)o  items  in  his  account  for  1865.  Now,  why 
not  in  ,1864  as  well  as  1865  ?  If  he  had  done  so  his 
account  would  have  balanced  and  the  difference, 
$2,966  24  would  have  been  in  our  pockets  and  out  of  his. 
1865. 

This  year  our  Treasurer  began  to  smell  a  pretty  il  big 
mice, "so  he  charged  the  school  money  this  time  only  once 
iu  the  different  towns'  books,  .and  not  to  the  County  as 
he  always  had  done  before.  The  reform  Board  of  Super- 
visors plainly  told  him  to  charge  it  back  to  the  County, 
where  it  properly  belonged.  lie  did  so,  Imt-  -ag*ttn 
changed  the  mode  of  keeping  his  accounts,  winch. you 
will  find  charged  and  credited  as  follows,  showing  that 
there  are  no  two  years  charged  alike  in  the  past  five 
years.  The  State  tax  for  18f»5,  $31,805  89,  is  disposed 
of  'as  follows : 

Paul  to  State  Comptroller  ?$27,262  \9 

I'aul  School  moneys  to  Supervisors   7,402,  6f> 

$34,664  85 
Dedact  amount  credited  to  the  County  for 
"  deficiencies  |  mill  tax,"  1,457  ^7  ;  by 
amount  common  school  fund  1,400  99. — 2,858  96 

$81,805  89 

Recapitulation. 
In  1861  his  school  money  account  is  correct. 
In  1802  the  school  money  is  overcharged .  .  $7,909  90 
In  1863  the  school  money  is  overcharged .  ,     7,247  77 

and  is  credited  short   679  80 

In  1864  The  County  is  credited  short   2,966  24 

In  1865  his  account  is  correct.   

Total  amount  overcharged  in 'five  years. ..  .$18,803  71 

Now,  if  his  accounts  show  anything,  do  they  not 
dearly  Show  that  the  Treasurer  owes  us  the  abov  e  sum  £ 
and  therefore  it  is  not  the*$500  office  that  he  worked 
nine  years  to  obtain,  and  now  wantsyto  be  kept  there 
for  three  v^ears  more.  Myopinion  is  he  is  too  expens- 
ive an  officer  for  an  overtaxed  people,  and  therefore  we 
•hould  try  and  get  a  cheaper  one 

I  am  often  asked  why  the  old  Boards  of  Sujlervisors 
had  not  discovered  these  things.  Let  me  answer:  On 
every  settling  day  the  Treasurer  dines  and  wines  them 
most  beautifully,  after  which  they  have  no  desire  for  a 
•areful  examination  of  his  accounts  and  by  way  of  dis- 
posing of  the  business  all  the  vouchers  and  papers  are 
thrown  into  the  stove.    This  was  tried  on  last  year  but 

Yours,  truly, 


the  reform  Board  could  not  see  it. 

BACK  TAXES. 
Let  us  examine  this  subject. — We  all  know  this 

has  been  the  scape  goat  when  called  on  to  know  what 
they  had  done  with  the  enormous  sums  they  had  put 
into  the  tax  levy  for  interest  on  bonds  not  in  existence 
and  to  pay  bonds  which  have  not  been  paid.  The' 
Treasurer  and  the  ring  Clerk  of  the  old  Board  both 
answered,  oh  !  the  back  Taxes  always  keep  the  treas- 
urey  short.  Now,  every  body  knows  that  a  large 
amount  of  back  taxes  is  collected  every  year.  What 
becomes  of  them ;  that  is  the  question  ?  Will  th« 
Treasurer  answer?    No.    Let  me  do  it  for.  him. 

It  is  his  "  internal  revenue  "  for  the  benefit  of  tha 
corruption  fund. 

Here  is  all  jt he  money  he  has  ever  credited  the  Coun- 
ty for  back  taxes  during  the  past  five  years  : 

In  1861 — 41  Received  taxes  in  arrears  on  property 
formerly  owned  hy  W.  W,  Van  Wagoner,  in  Southfield, 
$360  66."       Received  taxes  in  arrears  on  property  of 
Isaac  Ward  in  Castleton,  $5  63." 
In  1862-'3-'4— Not  a  dollar. 

In  1865 — "Received  taxes  from  Castleton,  Kenny's 
property,  $282  35."    Total,  $648  64. 

Will  the  taxpayers  of  this  County  believe  that  this  i» 
all  the  money  that  has  been  paid  into  tho  Treasury 
for  back  taxes  during  all  this  time  ?  No,  4t  is  impos- 
sihle,  lor  more  than  ten  times  that  amount  has  been 
collected,  and  remains  unaccounted  for  to  us,  but  has 
gone  into  the  corruption  fund,  which  is  to  be  used  to 
elect  this  very  careSul  public  servant  again,  so  that  he 
may  serve  us  as  well  in  the  future  as  in  the  past. 

When  the  Treasurer  closed  up  his  last  year's  accounts 
I  was  present.  Supervisor  Child  requested  Judge  Met- 
calfe to  swear,  the  Treasurer.  To  the  question  put, 
have  you  accounted  for  all  the  pubjie  mmmy  thrrtrtrar 
come  into  your  bands  during  the  past  year  ?  He  an- 
swered, I  have.  Now,  at  that  vtery  time  he'  took  the 
oath,  I  had  in  my  pocket  two  receipts  of  his  for  back 
taxes  ;  one  for  $40  00  and  the  other  for  $60  00,  on 
property  own»»d  by  Stephen  Baxsjer,  the  last  sum  wa* 
paid  to  him  on  the  7th  of  November,  1865 — only  two 
months  before  he  swore  he  rendered  a  full  account  of 
all  money  received. 

Look  at  his  rkcruiting  charges. — First,  in  1863, 
he  lifted  a  $1.00«j  out  of  the  Treasury  fdr  M  fees  for 
obtaining  loans,  issuing  bonds,  stamps  and  disburs- 
ments ""  without  any  authority  from  the  Supervisors. 
Second  his  attempt  to  give  Jim  Lee  a  contract  for  men 
by  which  our  County  would  have  been  cheated  out  of 
about  $40,000.  Defeated  in  that  the  Ring  let  Lee  cheat, 
us  out*>f  63  men  and  $4,725,  and  then  made  the  Coun- 
ty pay  all  the  expenses,  $20,553  38. 

Third,  his  different  charges  for  his  fees  and  commis- 
sion, $17,  51  60,  besides  making  the  County  piy  all 
his  and  the  recruiting  expenses,  which  are  over  $40,000 
more. 

Remember  that  by  the  acts  of  the  Ring  leader  our 
County  is  nearly  a  million  of  dollars  in  debt  for  tha 
1,300  then  we sent  to  the  wkrr  When  the  "city ""Of* 
Hartford  sent  2,000  men  at  a  cost  under  $200,000. 
Wdiile  Vermont  sent  32,000  men,  and  her  'war  debt  u 
only  $1.600. 000,  and  then  don't  forget  he  refuses  to 
pay  over  to  the  County  $14,000  whica  the  Supervisors 
say  be  owes  out  of  the  last  money  put  into  his  hands 
for  recruiting  purposes. 

And,  now,  Taxpayers  are  you  ready  to  vote  such  a 
man  into  offiee  again  ?  Choose  vou  now  between  Wan- 
del,  the  present  Treasurer,  and  IAMES  GUYON, 
a  worthy  and  honest  man,  to  care  '  for  the  public  money 
in  future. 

*  J.  C.  THOMPSON. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


i3 


"Honest  John"  was  finally  hit  on  the  head  by  one  of  the 
eminent  gentlemen  who  was  helping  run  the  county's  affairs 
and  who  we  are  informed  was  arrested  for  assault. 

In  this  connection  the  following  is  interesting: 

BY-LAWS 
of  the 

TAX-PAYERS'  ASSOCIATION 
of 

RICHMOND  COUNTY 
Organized  February,  1864. 


PREAMBLE 


Whereas.  Some  of  the  offices  of  Richmond  County  have 
been  usurped  by  a  set  of  irresponsible  and  dishonest  men,  who 
make  politics  a  trade,  and  depend  for  a  living  upon  the  pockets 
of  tax-payers ; 

And  Whereas,  The  public  moneys  of  the  County  are  now, 
and  for  a  long  time  have  been  needlessly  and  dishonestly  squan- 
dered and  appropriated  by  those  having  the  custody  and  dis- 
position of  them,  thus  largely  increasing  our  already  enormous 
taxes,  without  any  corresponding  increase  of  the  benefits  they 
are  intended  to  produce ;  and  whereas,  this  state  of  affairs,  if 
permitted  to  continue,  will  in  a  short  time  utterly  check  the 
growth  and  improvement  of  Staten  Island,  by  making  the 
ownership  of  real  estate  thereon  a  burden  too  heavy  to  be 
borne;  and 

Whereas,  The  various  efforts  heretofore  made  to  bring 
about  a  reform  have  all  been  unsuccessful,  and  our  affairs  as  a 
tax-paying  community,  instead  of  improving,  are  continually 
growing  worse ;  and  whereas,  an  immediate  change  for  the  bet- 
ter is  absolutely  essential  to  the  interests  of  the  County — Now 
therefore,  we,  the  undersigned,  tax-payers  of  Richmond  County, 
hereby  form  ourselves  into  an  association  to  be  called  "The 
Tax-Payers'  Vigilance  Association  of  Richmond  County,"  for 
the  purpose  of  protecting  our  interests  as  tax-payers,  and 
checking  the  corruption  and  dishonesty  which  prevail  to  such 
an  alarming  extent  among  many  of  our  public  officials.  And 
we  do  hereby  pledge  ourselves  to  use  every  effort  in  our  power, 


14 


NORTH  SHORE 


whether  as  individuals  or  as  an  association,  to  defeat  their  cor- 
rupt designs,  and  to  bring  the  offenders  themselves  to  justice. 
For  which  purpose,  and  that  our  action,  being  systematic  may 
be  more  effectual,  we  have  established  the  following  by-laws 
by  which  to  govern  ourselves : 

BY-LAWS 

I.  The  name  of  this  Association  shall  be  "The  Tax-Payers' 
Vigilance  Association  of  Richmond  County." 

II.  The  object  of  the  Association  is  to  relieve  the  tax-payers 
of  Richmond  County  from  the  unnecessary  and  onerous  bur- 
dens placed  upon  them  by  dishonest  officials;  to  exercise  a 
careful  scrutiny  over  all  public  matters  in  the  County,  v/ith  a 
view  of  correcting  the  manifold  abuses  which  now  exist,  and 
preventing  their  recurrence  in  future;  and  to  detect  and  punish 
to  the  utmost  extent  of  the  law,  every  person,  whether  in  or  out 
of  office,  who  shall  have  attempted  to  defraud  the  tax -payers  of 
the  County  in  any  manner  whatever. 

III.  The  officers  of  the  Association  shall  be  a  President, 
Vice  President,  Secretary  and  Treasurer,  who  shall  be  elected 
annually  by  ballot  and  whose  duties  shall  be  such  as  usually 
devolve  upon  such  officers  in  similar  associations. 

IV.  Any  tax-payer  of  good  standing  in  Richmond  County 
may,  on  application,  become  a  member  of  this  Association  by 
being  nominated  by  one  or  more  members  thereof  at  any  regu- 
lar meeting,  and  being  confirmed  by  the  members  present,  and 
voting  at  such  meeting,  and  subscribing  his  name  to  this  pre- 
amble and  by-laws. 

V.  The  following  standing  committees  shall  be  elected  an- 
nually at  the  same  time  and  in  the  same  manner  as  the  officers 
of  the  Association,  viz  r 

i st.  The  "Executive  Committee,"  to  consist  of  two  members 
from  each  town  in  the  county,  whose  duty  it  shall  be  to  scruti- 
nize all  the  transactions  of  public  officials  in  the  County,  and 
the  several  towns  thereof ;  and  to  whom  shall  be  referred  for 
examination  all  cases  of  official  corruption  or  malfeasance 
which  may  come  within  the  knowledge  of  the  Association,  or 
any  of  the  members  thereof;  and  who  shall  report  from  time  to 
time  to  the  Association,  at  its  regular  meeting,  the  disclosures 
made  and  information  obtained  by  them  in  relation  to  the  mat- 
ters coming  under  their  charge. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


i5 


2d.  The  "Judiciary  Committee,"  to  consist  of  three  members, 
to  whom  shall  be  referred  all  questions  relating  to  proposed 
changes  in  legislation,  and  all  legal  matters  whatever;  and 
who,  in  the  absence  of  regularly  employed  counsel,  shall  act  as 
such  for  the  Association. 

VI.  The  regular  meeting  shall  be  held  on  the  first  Tuesday 
of  each  month,  at  such  hour  and  place  as  may  be  appointed. 
Special  meetings  may  at  any  time  be  called  by  the  president  at 
the  request  of  two  or  more  members — Provided,  that  five  mem- 
bers shall  constitute  a  quorum  to  do  business. 

VII.  Counsel  may  at  any  time  be  employed  by  the  Associa- 
tion, and  reimbursed  by  the  treasurer  out  of  the  funds  in  his 
hands.  One  or  more  special  agents  may  also  be  employed,  if 
deemed  necessary  to  carry  out  the  objects  of  the  Association, 
either  temporarily  for  a  fixed  sum,  or  permanently,  at  a  stated 
salary — Provided,  that  all  resolutions  involving  an  expendi- 
ture of  money  shall  be  adopted  by  a  vote  of  at  least  two-thirds 
of  the  members  present  at  the  meeting  when  such  expenditure 
is  authorized. 

VIII.  Funds  may  be  raised  by  subscription  among  mem- 
bers of  the  Association,  or  among  the  tax-payers  of  the  County. 

IX.  The  order  of  business  at  the  regular  meetings  of  the 
Association  shall  be  as  follows : 

1st.  The  reading  of  the  minutes  of  the  last  meeting. 

2d.  The  election  of  officers,  if  any  are  to  be  chosen. 

3d.  The  reports  of  committees. 

4th.  The  reception  of  new  members. 

5th.  Miscellaneous  business. 

X.  A  quorum  to  do  business,  shall  consist  of  at  least  five 
members. 

XI.  These  by-laws  may  be  amended  at  any  regular  meeting 
by  a  vote  of  two-thirds  of  the  members  present. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  Association,  held  at  the  office  of  Mr. 

Low,  No.  17  Broadway,  May  3d,  1864,  the  following  officers 

were  unanimously  elected: 

President   Daniel  Low 

Vice-President   Alex.  Hornby 

Sec'y  and  Treas'r  Sam'l  Barton 


i6 


NORTH  SHORE 


Executive  Committee 
Castleton:   J.  C.  Thompson,  Wm.  Hoyt 
Middletown :  N.  B.  Labau,  R.  M.  Hazard 
Southfield:  Geo.  M.  Root,  Sam'l  Barton 
Northfield:  G.  W.  Jewett,  Jno.  W.  Houseman 
Westfield :  G.  A.  Cole,  Sam'l  H.  Frost 

Judiciary  Committee 
N.  B.  Labau,  C.  Bainbridge  Smith,  Geo.  Catlin 

The  Staten  Island  Institute  of  Arts  and  Sciences 

The  Staten  Island  Institute  of  Arts  and  Sciences,  whose  in- 
teresting and  valuable  museum  and  library  is  situated  on  the 
northerly  corner  of  Stuyvesant  Place  and  Wall  St.,  has  done 
much  for  the  development  of  both  the  history  and  natural  sci- 
ence of  the  Island.  The  Institute  is  the  outgrowth  of  the  older 
Staten  Island  Association  of  Arts  and  Sciences,  and  this  of  the 
still  older  Natural  Science  Association,  which  was  started  at  a 
meeting  in  the  home  of  William  T.  Davis  on  November  12, 
1881.  The  first  officers  were  Sanderson  Smith,  president; 
Charles  W.  Leng,  recording  and  financial  secretary ;  Arthur 
Hollick,  corresponding  secretary;  Wm.  T.  Davis,  curator.  Dr. 
Nathaniel  L.  Britton,  Samuel  Henshaw,  Ernest  F.  Neilson,  Ed- 
ward C.  Delavan,  Jr.,  Charles  W.  Butler,  Wilton  G.  Berry,  E. 
F.  Birmingham,  George  W.  Wright,  Bradish  J.  Carroll  and  Dr. 
Alfred  L.  Carroll  (who  later  served  as  president  for  five  years), 
were  also  present.  The  first  number  of  the  Proceedings  is 
dated  November  icth,  1883. 

Old  Days  on  Staten  Island  * 

When  Staten  Island  first  presents  itself  to  my  mental  vision 
through  accounts  of  its  beauty  at  first  hand,  its  North  Shore 
had  been  girdled  by  a  road  and  there  was  one  running  from 
Quarantine  to  Fort  Wadsworth.  Previously  the  farms  on  both 
shores  had  stretched  in  green  fields  to  the  water.  Many  people, 
even  young  ones,  can  remember  the  last  of  these  farms  which 
lay  at  St.  George  where  the  freight  yards  now  are. 

There  were  two  lines  of  steamboats  from  New  York,  one 
going  through  the  Kills  and  one  along  the  South  Shore.  These 
two  lines  were  a  never-ending  source  of  trouble  to  the  visiting 
stranger,  and  every  family  had  harrowing  tales  of  good  meals 


*  Contributed  by  Mrs.  Willcox. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


spoiled  in  the  waiting;  of  impatient  horses  jerking  at  the  reins 
on  the  nearest  dock,  while  the  expected  guest  to  his  horror 
found  that  he  had  taken  the  other  ferry  and  was  miles  from  his 
host's  house,  the  only  way  to  reach  it  being  to  go  back  to  New 
York  and  start  afresh. 

The  ferry  on  the  South  Shore  was  a  Vanderbilt  creation  and 
distinct  successor  of  the  little  sailboat,  a  periagua  owned  by 
the  father  of  the  "Commodore".  When  the  old  man  died  and 
left  his  widow  with  only  the  little  boat  as  her  chief  means  of 
support,  she  told  the  oldest  son,  Cornelius,  that  he  must  now 
run  the  ferry  and  support  the  family.  The  boy  was  only  a  lad, 
but  he  managed  the  boat  and  made  his  trips  back  and  forth, 
bringing  to  his  mother  every  night  the  proceeds  of  the  day's 
work,  all  but  a  small  percent,  which  he  kept  for  himself  until 
he  had  saved  enough  to  buy  a  larger  and  a  better  boat  and  to 
run  his  mother's  off  the  line,  a  stroke  of  business  not  unknown 
in  his  later  methods. 

The  "Staten  Islander"  and  the  "Huguenot"  were  the  two 
boats  employed  on  the  North  Shore,  and  their  names  on  the 
pilot  house  were  abbreviated  to  "Str."  and  "Hgn."  They  made 
the  trip  once  in  two  hours,  and  not  then  if  the  captain  did  not 
consider  the  weather  auspicious.  If  it  were  foggy,  or  too 
rough,  the  boat  would  not  leave  the  Whitehall  Street  slip,  and 
the  luckless  passengers  were  obliged  to  take  trains  to  Bergen 
Point,  walk  down  to  the  shore  and  hire  a  rowboat. 

The  boats  stopped  at  the  Harbor  dock  by  courtesy,  thus 
giving  easy  means  whereby  New  York  could  be  reached  by 
that  neighborhood.  But  it  was  not  a  large  dock,  and  when  the 
coal  barges  were  tied  up  there  with  the  winter's  supply  of  fuel 
for  the  institution,  there  was  no  room  for  the  ferryboat  to  land. 
It  never  seemed  possible  to  foretell  the  date  of  arrival  of  these 
barges,  and  the  only  intimation  that  the  ferryboat  would  not 
stop  was  that  it  went  by,  leaving  the  passengers  fuming  on  the 
dock.  Then  would  that  neighborliness,  which  was  so  charac- 
teristic, show  itself,  and  those  who  had  carriages  would  load 
up  to  capacity  and  hurry  down  to  the  New  Brighton  dock. 

Young  people  often  ran  the  long  mile  and,  as  the  boat  was 
slow,  it  was  not  an  impossibility  to  catch  up  with  it.  Mr. 
Abraham  S.  Hewitt,  a  young  man  at  the  time,  and  boarding 
for  the  summer  on  the  shore  near  the  Harbor  dock,  was  ob- 
served to  dash  out  of  the  house,  coat  and  waistcoat  in  either 
hand,  dressing  as  he  ran. 


i8 


NORTH  SHORE 


Five  cents  was  the  fare  in  those  days  from  any  point  and, 
there  being  no  Coney  Island  or  South  Beach,  mothers  and 
babies  often  took  the  round  trip  for  an  outing.  At  all  times 
the  boat  was  a  pleasant  meeting  place  for  friends,  and  the  first 
question  asked  on  reaching  home,  was :  "Whom  did  you  see  on 
the  boat?" 

The  men  smoked  in  the  downstairs  cabin  forward,  a  place 
smelling  of  horses  and  cigar  smoke,  and  through  which  all 
well-conducted  females  hurried,  looking  neither  to  the  right 
hand  nor  the  left.  There  was  a  ladies'  cabin,  upholstered  in 
red,  and  with  red  rep  curtains  draping  the  windows,  but  in  this 
cabin  ladies  of  social  position  never  sat,  nor  did  they  sit  outside 
this  in  the  lower  cabin.  They  sat  upstairs  or  on  the  deck,  and 
on  the  "guards",  if  accompanied  by  a  gentleman.  Into  the  sa- 
cred precincts  of  the  upper  cabin  it  was  quite  proper  for  a  man 
to  venture ;  indeed,  they  often  sat  there  when  they  did  not  care 
for  tobacco  smoke,  and  it  was  here  that  many  a  happy  hour 
was  spent  of  a  sunny  morning  by  youth  and  maiden  in  joyous 
converse :  Only,  be  it  understood,  that  few,  if  any,  girls  went 
to  work  in  those  days.  A  journey  to  town  might  be  for  educa- 
tion in  an  advanced  form,  or  merely  for  a  day  spent  in  shop- 
ping or  in  pleasure. 

It  was  considered  quite  a  step  in  advance  when  the  tracks 
for  the  horsecars  were  laid,  and  the  little  bumping,  swaying 
vehicles,  drawn  by  two  horses  with  their  jingling  bells,  jogged 
by  the  foot  of  the  streets  twice  an  hour. 

When  the  snow  lay  too  heavily  on  the  roads  to  be  shoveled 
off  by  hand  (there  were  no  electric  plows  in  those  days),  and 
the  horses  could  not  pull  the  little  cars  over  the  impacted  rails, 
great  sleighs  were  brought  out,  with  long,  box  bodies  seating 
perhaps  twenty  people,  and  covered  with  white  canvas  like  the 
old-time  prairie  schooner.  A  journey  at  night  in  one  of  these 
was  a  thing  not  lightly  to  be  undertaken,  and  nothing  more 
uncomfortable  can  well  be  imagined,  especially  if  the  trip  was 
as  far  as  the  German  Club  Rooms  to  an  entertainment  calling 
for  one's  best  dress!  We  sat  huddled  close  together,  the  men 
hanging  on  the  straps  in  the  aisle.  Nobody  could  tell  where  to 
get  off,  because  nobody  could  see  through  the  canvas  cover;  the 
sleigh  bobbed  and  jerked  and  skidded  and  swung  in  the  ruts; 
the  young  men  pitched  about  with  the  motion  and  tramped  on 
our  feet,  which  were  encased  in  arctics  or  even  rubber  boots, 
ready  for  the  plunge  into  the  snow  or  deep  slush  when  the 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


19 


right  corner  should  be  reached.  Often  it  was  impossible  to 
cross  our  streets  except  on  the  raised  flag  crossings  at  the  cor- 
ners. On  one  of  our  best  streets  a  young  man,  when  he  wished 
to  call  on  an  opposite  neighbor,  used  to  wrap  his  feet  in  news- 
papers firmly  tied  on  and,  crossing  over  through  the  mud,  leave 
the  impromptu  overshoes  in  the  gutter  where  he  came  to  shore. 

There  was  a  North  Shore  Car  Line  and  a  South  Shore  Line, 
and  why  these  lines  never  made  connection  in  point  of  time, 
we  never  knew.  The  South  Shore  line  started  near  the  old 
Nautilus  Hotel  on  Bay  Street,  and  we  could  always  count  on 
a  half  hour's  wait  when  we  left  the  North  Shore  cars. 

About  once  a  summer  we  took  this  trip  when  some  kind- 
hearted  grown-up  would  organize  a  picnic  at  the  Fort,  or  'way 
around  the  corner  past  the  Aspinwall  Place  to  a  wild  bank  and 
sandy  beach,  which  must  be  now  the  northern  end  of  South 
Beach.  Fort  Wadsworth  was  a  very  different  place  then. 
There  were  soldiers  there  and  sentinels  and  cannon  and  piles 
of  cannon  balls,  and  great  high  banks  of  earth  with  guns  con- 
cealed behind  them;  there  were  inside  courtyards  and  secret 
stairs ;  hidden  walks  and  unexpected  lookout  places,  and  every- 
body was  allowed  to  run  at  will  over  them,  and  no  sentinel 
warned  you  off — on  the  contrary,  they  helped  you  to  find  new 
mysteries  in  the  art  of  harbor  defense. 

The  only  road  which  could  be  used  in  wet  weather  for  car- 
riages and  horses  was  the  Shore  Road,  called  by  this  time 
Richmond  Terrace,  and  it  was  a  lovely  drive.  No  factories 
marred  its  shore  line,  graceful  trees  bordered  its  sides,  and 
from  New  Brighton  to  what  is  now  St.  George  the  elms  arched 
overhead,  completely  shading  the  road.  On  this  drive  the  rich 
and  great  disported  themselves  of  an  afternoon,  and  pretty  car- 
riages, shiny  harness  and  prancing  horses  passed  to  and  fro. 

Handsome  houses  with  lawns  and  gardens  were  on  the  land- 
ward side  of  the  Terrace,  and  toward  the  water  green  banks 
sloped  to  the  Kills,  whose  waves  lapped  up  on  pebbly  beaches 
or  big  rocks.  The  Jersey  shore  was  a  vast  expanse  of  green 
salt  meadow,  shimmering  in  the  sunshine,  only  broken  by  one 
small  factory  and  a  house  with  octagonal  ends  on  a  rise  of 
ground  opposite  the  Harbor  dock,  and  by  a  gunpowder  store- 
house belonging  to  the  Government,  and  an  old  white  stone 
cottage  in  which  the  keeper  lived,  on  the  extreme  point  toward 
Communipaw  Bay. 

People  had  bathing  houses  along  the  shores  and  boats  rode 
at  their  moorings  in  sheltered  coves.    The  waters  were  clean, 


20 


NORTH  SHORE 


especially  at  high  tide,  and  the  bathing  was  good.  There  is  a 
story  of  how  Dr.  Theodore  Walser  said  to  his  lively  young 
son :  "Willie,  don't  you  go  in  bathing  more  than  once  a  day," 
and,  driving  off  on  his  daily  round  of  visits,  saw  the  boy  dis- 
porting himself  in  the  water  near  the  New  Brighton  dock. 
Imagine  his  displeasure  when,  on  returning  from  the  daily 
round  in  the  afternoon,  he  saw  Willie  disporting  himself 
in  the  same  spot.  Stern  investigation  brought  out  a  frank  re- 
ply :  "Why,  you  told  me  I  could  only  go  in  once ;  so  I  stayed 
in." 

Boat  club  houses  stood  on  the  shores  and  crews  rowed  in 
the  summer  evenings  up  and  down  the  Kills,  getting  ready  for 
the  great  races  between  the  Neptunes,  the  Bergen  Pointers 
and  the  Kittens.  They  rowed  in  single  shells  and  in  eight- 
oared  shells,  and  great  was  the  rivalry  between  the  clubs. 

These  clubs  also  owned  barges  for  four  and  eight  oars,  and 
in  the  long  twilight  evenings  of  the  summer,  the  oarsmen  took 
their  best  girls  out  for  a  pull,  duly  chaperoned,  of  course,  by 
some  obliging  older  woman  who  sat  at  her  ease  in  the  cush- 
ioned stern.  Each  girl  sat  by  her  man,  his  oar  reaching  across 
her,  and  straight  she  had  to  sit  or  else  she  would  have  been 
thwacked  in  front  or  bumped  behind.  Yet  it  was  a  great  pleas- 
ure, ending  with  ice  cream  at  the  Latourette  House,  in  Bergen 
Point,  and  the  quiet  row  home  in  the  warm  dusk,  to  the  sound 
of  the  dripping  oars  and  young  voices  singing  in  unison. 

In  dry  weather  only  was  it  possible  to  drive  over  the  coun- 
try roads  which  intersected  the  Island,  and  which  were  the 
only  means  of  communication  for  the  small  towns  strung  along 
them  at  long  intervals  like  beads  on  a  string. 

Our  woods  were  full  of  tall  chestnut  trees  then,  and  oaks 
and  the  white  trunks  of  beech  and  birch.  The  lovely  dogwood 
and  the  dark  green  of  the  cedars  stood  in  familiar  contrast. 
Fringed  gentians  were  for  the  picking  when  the  "woods"  at 
the  top  of  Bard  Avenue  boasted  big  trees  and  not  the  scrub  of 
second  growth,  and  arbutus  nestled  under  the  dead  leaves  fur- 
ther inland. 

Silver  Lake  was  full  of  white  waterlilies  and  the  yellow 
ones  grew  in  the  nearby  ponds.  Anemones,  spring-beauties 
and  hepaticas  grew  all  through  our  woods  where  the  foot  of 
the  urban  dweller  had  not  trod  and  his  vandal  hand  had  not 
torn  up  our  beautiful  flowers  by  the  roots. 

Mary  Otis  (Gay)  Willcox. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


21 


The  Marble  House—St.  Marks  Hotel— 
Hotel  Castleton 

The  Marble  House,  about  No.  125  St.  Marks  Place,  was 
built  about  1821  by  Gilbert  L.  Thompson,  a  son-in-law  of  Gov- 
ernor Tompkins.  It  changed  owners  many  times,  one  of  the 
purchasers  being  August  Belmont  who  used  it  as  a  residence 
for  a  number  of  years.  Later  the  place  came  into  the  posses- 
sion of  John  C.  Green  whose  residence  stood  where  now  stands 
the  Curtis  High  School.  In  due  time,  Mr.  Green  sold,  but,  in 
order  to  preserve  his  view  over  the  broad  waters  of  the  Up- 
per Bay,  with  the  proviso  that  only  one  house  should  stand  on 
the  property.  The  purchaser,  a  hotel  man,  recognized  the  pos- 
sibilities of  the  site,  and  proceeded  to  expand  the  one  house  in 
a  manner  that  brought  astonishment  to  the  mind  of  Mr.  Green 
and  abbreviation  to  his  outlook. 

The  new  owner  apparently  fed  the  Marble  House  from  the 
left  side  of  the  mushroom ;  for,  like  Alice  in  Wonderland,  it 
grew  and  it  grew  until,  lo,  the  St.  Marks  Hotel  filled  all  the 
view,  and  Mr.  Green  had  learned  something  concerning  the  mu- 
tability of  contracts. 

This  became  a  very  popular  summer  resort  until  it  was  de- 
molished about  1889,  ar,d tne  Hotel  Castleton  arose  in  its  stead. 
Times  were  changing,  however.  No  longer  did  the  summer  so- 
journers throng  to  Staten  Island,  and,  but  for  a  small  group  of 
New  Yorkers,  who,  though  they  had  the  wherewithal  yet 
must  needs  stick  to  their  lasts,  it  was  the  ghosts  of  the  past 
chiefly  that  thronged  the  halls  of  the  Castleton,  and  after  lan- 
guishing for  eight  long  years,  it  burned  on  November  12,  1907, 
and  the  fire  insurance  companies  came  nobly  to  the  rescue. 

Mr.  Anthon  was  told  in  1850  that  there  were  caves  in  the 
hill  near  the  Marble  House,  occupied  during  the  Revolution  by 
Hessian  soldiers.  A  Captain  Blake  told  him  of  his  visit  to  these 
Hessian  underground  habitations  to  get  money  for  a  beef  which 
had  been  run  through  by  them.  He  said  they  were  fed  on 
slices  of  pork  shaken  up  with  rum  and  sugar,  which  latter  they 
called  "schnapps." 

Hamilton  Avenue 

Hamilton  Avenue  was  locally  known  as  Sunny  or  Lovers' 
Lane.    On  a  sunny  day  there  were  always  warm  places  along 


22 


NORTH  SHORE 


this  one-time  sheltered  road  that  bends  like  a  cupid's  bow  and, 
as  it  was  sequestered,  it  must  needs  be  a  "Lovers'  Lane." 

Jones  Family 

John  Q.  Jones  resided  at  the  west  corner  of  Nicholas  Street. 
He,  his  brother  Joshua,  with  two  sisters,  made  the  house  their 
residence.  They  died  one  by  one,  but  up  to  the  death  of  the 
last  the  table  was  always  set  and  meals  served  for  four. 

Site  of  St.  Peters  Parochial  School 

Here  formerly  stood  the  A.  M.  Proudfit  mansion,  later 
called  the  Harding  mansion,  about  which  there  was  much  un- 
explained mj'stery.  The  house  had  the  reputation  of  being 
haunted.  A  former  tenant  tells  how  exactly  as  the  clock  struck 
the  hour  of  noon  was  heard  a  sound  as  of  a  woman  dressed  in 
silks,  slowly  descending  the  staircase  and  passing  down  the 
hall  past  the  dining  room  door.  This  occurred  day  after  day 
and  always  at  the  same  moment.  Watchers  could  never  see 
anything,  but  one  day  when  an  adventurous  member  of  the  fam- 
ily put  herself  in  the  way  of  the  ghost,  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs, 
she  distinctly  felt  the  swish  of  a  skirt  on  her  ankle.  One  room 
which  was  claimed  to  be  a  store-room  was  always  locked.  The 
sounds  emanating  from  this  room  at  night  were  such  that  no 
one  could  ever  be  induced  to  sleep  in  an  adjoining  room  a  sec- 
ond time,  while  in  the  basement  at  the  exact  hour  of  8  o'clock 
every  evening  the  dishes  would  rattle  as  though  the  house  was 
shaken  by  some  convulsion  of  the  earth,  and  frightened  serv- 
ants would  refuse  to  return  to  the  kitchen  until  the  light  of  day 
dispelled  all  black  shadows.  This  Harding  house  was  for  a 
number  of  years  and  until  it  was  demolished  the  home  of  the 
Democratic  Club. 

The  Greek  Temple  Buildings 

The  Greek  temple  buildings,  which  were  a  notable  feature 
of  the  New  Brighton  landscape,  were  built  by  Thomas  E. 
Davis  in  1839.  One  of  these  he  occupied  as  a  residence.  The 
others  were  gradually  sold  to  prominent  men  chiefly  from  New 
York.  Being  visible  from  the  water,  they  were  one  of  the 
sights  of  the  Upper  Bay. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


23 


A  Civil  War  Incident 

One  of  the  Greek  temple  buildings  was  purchased  in  184 1 
by  a  Mr.  Ernest  Fiedler  who  entertained  a  great  deal  and 
whose  home  was  the  scene  of  almost  constant  gaiety. 

At  some  social  function  here,  during  the  period  of  the  Civil 
War,  the  commanding  officer  of  Fort  Lafayette  was  among 
those  present.  While  the  gaiety  was  at  its  height  he  was  called 
outside  and  handed  a  telegram  announcing  a  great  North- 
ern victory.  He  immediately  returned  to  the  ballroom  and 
waving  the  telegram  aloft  reported  the  good  news.  Naturally 
there  was  a  great  noise  of  rejoicing.  Much  to  the  astonishment 
and  consternation  of  the  host  and  most  of  his  guests,  however, 
one  of  a  group  of  Southern  young  women  present  advanced  to 
the  wall  and  grasped  a  large  United  States  flag  which  was 
draped  thereon.  This  she  tore  down  and  stamped  under  foot. 
There  was  a  tense  silence  for  a  moment.  It  would  have  been  an 
easy  matter  to  have  dealt  with  a  man  who  had  so  overstepped 
the  bounds,  but  with  a  woman  it  was  a  different  matter. 
Finally,  the  gentlemen  formed  a  double  line  from  the  girl  to  the 
door,  and  she  was  motioned  to  leave,  and  so  the  incident  was 
quietly  closed. 

Before  the  Civil  War  the  Pavilion  Hotel  was  a  headquar- 
ters for  Southern  planters.  When  the  war  broke  out  the  South- 
ern chivalry  sent  many  of  its  women  and  children  here  to  be 
cared  for  while  the  men  remained  at  home  to  fight  the  damned 
Yankees.  This  was.  of  course,  the  highest  compliment  that 
could  have  been  paid  to  the  chivalry  of  the  North.  These  wo- 
men had  in  many  instances  been  visitors  here  for  years  and 
were  well  known  in  society,  consequently,  in  spite  of  their 
sympathies,  many  of  them  were  entertained  in  these  Staten  Is- 
land homes. 

Pavilion  Hotel 

The  Pavilion  Hotel  was  in  its  day  one  of  the  most  fash- 
ionable summer  hotels  of  the  country.  The  central  part  of  the 
original  building  was  erected  by  Thomas  E.  Davis  about  1828 
as  his  residence.  After  it  had  been  so  occupied  for  about  four 
years  it  was  converted  into  a  hotel.  An  immense  saloon  was 
built  in  the  rear  and  two  wings  were  added,  each  larger  than 
the  original  building.  A  colonnade  more  than  two  hundred 
feet  in  length  in  front  of  the  building  afforded  a  place  for  stroll- 


24 


NORTH  SHORE 


ing.  A  covered  promenade  of  the  same  length  connected  the 
three  divisions  of  the  building — the  saloon  was  75  by  80  feet 
with  a  large  dome  sustained  by  a  multitude  of  Corinthian  pil- 
lars and  lighted  at  night  by  immense  chandeliers.  All  the 
rooms  ''have  elegant  Italian  marble  mantles  and  are  furnished 
in  a  degree  of  elegance  and  luxury  rarely  equalled  by  the 
largest  hotels  of  the  cities"  (old  newspaper).  Its  old  registers 
contain  such  names  as  those  of  General  Winfield  Scott,  Henry 
Clay,  General  Santa  Anna,  Martin  Van  Buren,  John  C.  Breck- 
enridge,  Horatio  Seymour,  Jennie  Lind,  Mme.  Adelina  Patti, 
Signor  Brignoli  and  a  large  number  of  others,  in  fact,  almost 
every  well  known  name  of  that  period. 

Some  industrious  compiler,  whose  bent  was  facts,  gathered 
so  much  from  old  newspapers  some  thirty  years  ago.  But  the 
human  interest  part  of  the  story  has  been  neglected.  This  ho- 
tel flourished  during  the  Mexican  and  Civil  Wars  and  during 
the  reconstruction  period  when  feeling  was  high  and  bitter.  It 
was  frequented  by  Southerners  as  well  as  those  from  the  North. 
Unquestionably  there  was  much  of  the  picturesque,  much  that 
would  be  of  more  than  passing  interest  today,  possibly  a  few 
thrillers,  as  heated  arguments  were  in  order  just  preceding  the 
Civil  War.  In  fact,  so  strong  was  the  Southern  element  here 
that  New  Brighton  had  a  bad  name  with  the  loyal  element, 
which  largely  passed  by  on  the  other  side. 

Westervelt  Avenue — Belmont  Hall 

Westervelt  Avenue  was  laid  out  by  Dr.  John  S.  Westervelt 
through  his  farm.  The  Doctor  was  a  son-in-law  of  Governor 
Tompkins  and  was  health  officer  of  the  port.  He  appears  to 
have  been  one  of  those  men  to  whom  the  accumulation  of 
money  was  not  very  much  of  a  task. 

Belmont  Hall,  on  the  Terrace  immediately  west  of  Wester- 
velt Avenue,  was  erected  as  a  dwelling  in  1832  by  Captain 
Thomas  Lawrence  who  conducted  a  distillery  nearly  opposite 
on  a  small  wharf  known  as  Still  House  Landing.  After  a  few 
years  the  Lawrence  house  became  a  military  academy  and, 
later,  oh,  shades  of  Bacchus!  a  temperance  hotel.  Three 
churches  were  organized  in  its  parlor.  It  was  closed  about 
1898  and  has  since  been  demolished. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


25 


Hessian  Spring  and  Jersey  Street 

Hessian  Spring,  which  occupied  the  valley  east  of  Jersey 
Street,  appears  to  have  consisted  of  one  large  spring  to  which 
a  number  of  smaller  springs  were  contributary.  Its  name 
comes  from  the  alleged  fact  that  there  was  a  Hessian  encamp- 
ment at  this  place.  About  1830  the  valley  was  dammed  and  a 
mill  pond  formed.  Here  a  grist  mill  was  built  by  Abraham 
Crocheron,  but  the  panic  of  1837  closed  it.  It  was  known 
in  later  years  as  the  Duck  Pond,  and  a  neighborhood  not  safe 
for  a  person  to  travel  in  at  night. 

In  the  "Abstract  of  the  Title  of  Thomas  E.  Davis  to  Certain 
Lands  in  Castleton"  (1834)  occurs  the  following: 

"  .  .  .  the  said  party  of  the  second  part,  his  heirs  and  as- 
signs shall  have  .  .  .  the  spring  called  the  Hessian  Spring, 
being  upon  said  block  or  square,  number  sixty,  for  the  pur- 
poses of  watering  the  village  of  Tompkinsville  and  the  premi- 
ses hereby  conveyed,  or  for  any  other  purpose,  and  forty  feet 
square  of  land  surrounding  and  including  said  spring  for  the 
purpose  of  erecting  thereon  buildings  and  machinery  for  rais- 
ing said  water    .  . 

The  following  is  from  the  Mirror  of  February  3rd,  1838: 

"On  Thursday  last,  five  or  six  men  were  engaged  in  cutting 
ice  for  the  New  Brighton  Association  on  the  mill-pond  just  be- 
hind Hessian  Spring,  at  this  place ;  the  ice  gave  way  and  they 
were  precipitated  into  the  water.  All  were  rescued  but  one, 
Mr.  William  Ford,  who  was  drowned." 

In  1838,  there  was  talk  of  converting  Hessian  Spring  and 
its  valley  into  a  place  "with  vine-hung  arbors"  where  the  weary 
traveler  could  be  at  rest.  The  locality  is  described  at  that  time 
as  follows:  "Tall  trees  bend  their  cooling  shade  over  the 
streamlet  that  leaps  from  this  antiquated  source  and  the  hills 
come  sloping  in  gradually  from  every  direction.  Everything 
seems  to  have  conspired  to  render  this  sweet  retreat  a  perfect 
paradise."  In  this  day,  noting  the  present  condition  of  the 
locality,  one  is  forced  to  the  belief  that  the  conspiracy  of  civil- 
ization against  the  beauties  of  Nature  has  been  the  only  suc- 
cessful conspiracy  hereabouts. 

Before  the  forest  was  cut  from  this  region  a  deep  ravine  ex- 
tended from  salt  water  back  toward  the  spring ;  into  this  ravine 
the  tide  ebbed  and  flowed.  This  was  used  as  a  hiding  place  by 
the  smugglers  that  infested  the  coast.    In  this  ravine  Gilbert 


26 


NORTH  SHORE 


Thompson,  son-in-law  of  Governor  Tompkins,  built  a  schooner 
in  which  he  and  his  family  sailed  for  Texas  where  he  joined 
General  Sam  Houston  in  the  campaign  against  Mexico.  After 
the  capture  of  Santa  Anna,  Thompson  enabled  him  to  escape  to 
Staten  Island.  This  is  the  same  Thompson  who  built  the  Mar- 
ble House. 

Smuggling  in  the  Olden  Time 

[From  Richmond  County  Gazette,  September  26,  1866.] 

The  numerous  rivulets  and  passages  on  the  coasts  of  Long 
Island  furnished  many  retreats  for  smugglers.  There  were 
several  places  on  Staten  Island  also  in  which  these  daring  sea- 
men sheltered  themselves  and  concealed  their  goods,  and  tradi- 
tion tells  of  one  which  was  long  used  for  this  purpose.  It  was 
situated  on  the  north  shore  near  the  mouth  of  the  Kills,  and  the 
precise  locality  of  its  entrance  is  now  occupied  by  the  old 
steamboat  wharf  at  New  Brighton.  A  deep  ravine  extended 
from  the  shore  a  few  rods  into  the  island,  into  which  the  tide 
ebbed  and  flowed,  and  could  only  be  entered  by  a  vessel  at 
high  water.  It  was,  as  what  is  left  of  it  still  is,  the  channel 
through  which  the  waters  of  the  Hessian  Spring — as  it  was 
afterward  called — found  their  outlet. 

The  ravine,  though  much  changed,  is  now  occupied  by  the 
print  works.  At  the  time  of  which  we  write  t.ie  sides  of  this 
ravine  were  densely  wooded,  and  the  limbs  of  the  trees  on  the 
opposite  sides  thereof  met  each  other,  and  effectually  concealed 
from  external  observation  any  vessel  that  had  entered  it.  At 
this  time,  too,  there  stood  on  the  western  declivity  thereof,  in 
the  midst  of  the  original  forest,  a  small  wooden  building,  then 
already  called  the  old  mill,  though  probably  it  had  never  been 
used  for  that  purpose;  for  the  waters  of  the  spring  had  never 
been  dammed,  and  were  not  copious  enough  to  afford  any  use- 
ful amount  of  power,  a  fact  which  the  proprietor  perhaps  dis- 
covered after  he  had  erected  the  building,  and  consequently 
abandoned  it.  But  for  whatever  purpose  it  had  been  erected, 
there  it  stood. 

The  public  road,  which  at  that  time  was  little  better  than  a 
mere  path,  as  it  approached  the  ravine,  left  the  shore,  and  after 
passing  around  the  spring  to  the  south,  returned  again  to  the 
water's  edge,  and  as  the  population  in  that  part  of  the  island 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


27 


was  very  sparse,  perhaps  not  half  a  dozen  persons  passed  the 
spot  after  nightfall  in  the  course  of  a  year;  consequently  this 
secluded  dell  afforded  a  convenient  and  safe  retreat  for  the 
smuggler. 

One  evening,  a  belated  farmer,  as  he  was  passing  around 
the  spring,  perceived  a  light  glimmering  through  the  trees  in 
the  direction  of  the  water.  His  first  impression  undoubtedly 
was  that  it  was  of  a  supernatural  character,  but  as  he  stood  a 
moment  to  observe  it,  he  heard  the  sound  of  a  human  voice, 
and  as  he  had  never  heard  that  a  ghost  was  invested  with  the 
power  of  audible  speech,  he  naturally  concluded  that  there 
were  at  least  two  human  beings  there,  the  speaker  and  the 
speakee. 

Having  come  to  this  conclusion,  he  cautiously  approached 
the  place,  and  concealed  himself,  in  order  to  make  his  observa- 
tions unseen  by  others.  Though  he  could  not  hear  all  that  was 
said  distinctly,  he  caught  some  of  the  conversation,  from  which 
he  inferred  that  those  he  saw  before  him  were  smugglers.  This 
opinion  was  confirmed  by  perceiving  several  small  parcels  and 
casks  conveyed  by  men  from  a  vessel  in  the  creek  toward  the 
old  mill. 

After  spending  half  an  hour  in  making  his  observations,  he 
departed  with  the  intention  of  inspecting  the  place  by  daylight. 
Accordingly,  early  the  next  morning,  he  returned  to  the  lo- 
cality, and  as  he  was  about  to  descend  toward  the  creek,  he 
perceived  a  man  approaching  from  the  opposite  direction, 
whom  he  at  once  recognized  as  a  city  merchant  residing  tem- 
porarily upon  the  Island.  From  his  place  of  concealment,  he 
observed  the  new-comer  approach  the  old  building,  and  hav- 
ing looked  cautiously  around,  saw  him  unlock  the  door,  enter, 
and  close  it  again. 

The  farmer  must  have  been  a  man  of  quick  perceptions,  for 
he  immediately  devised  a  plan  by  which  he  conceived  that  his 
own  perpendicular  personal  pronoun  might  derive  some  bene- 
fit from  his  discovery.  Knowing  that  he  could  not  be  seen 
from  the  side  in  which  the  door  was  situated,  as  there  were  no 
windows  there,  he  approached  the  building  and  began  to  speak 
in  a  loud,  authoritative  tone,  as  if  he  were  accompanied  by  sev- 
eral other  persons.  "Conceal  yourselves,"  he  cried,  "among 
the  bushes,  and  if  the  vessel  of  the  smugglers  enters  the  creek 
at  any  time  during  the  day,  fire  upon  it.    Shoot  any  man  who 


28 


NORTH  SHORE 


insists  upon  entering  the  ravine  after  being  warned  off,  and 
above  all,  suffer  no  one  to  enter  or  leave  the  mill. 

"The  cutter  will  be  around  perhaps  tomorrow  and  you  will 
be  relieved  tonight.  In  the  meantime,  keep  perfect  silence 
among  yourselves." 

Having  delivered  his  orders  to  his  imaginary  subordinates, 
he  withdrew  to  a  little  distance  to  observe  the  consequences, 
but  no  sign  was  made. 

The  poor  merchant  in  the  mill  had  heard  every  word  and 
had  the  comfortable  conviction  that  he  was  effectually  trap- 
ped. The  day  passed,  during  which  the  farmer  visited  the 
place  two  or  three  times,  and  the  merchant  was  starving  in  his 
prison.  After  dark  he  again  approached  the  place,  and  again 
repeated  his  orders  to  his  imaginary  relief  guard.  Early  the 
next  morning  he  was  again  at  the  mill  and,  tapping  at  the  door, 
he  called  out  in  a  subdued  tone,  "Mr.  Boerman,  Mr.  Boerman." 
The  door  of  the  mill  was  cautiously  opened,  and  the  famished 
Mr.  Boerman  inquired  who  called? 

"I  did",  said  the  farmer ;  "the  cutter  marines  have  just  gone 
away,  and  now  is  the  time  for  you  to  escape  if  such  is  your  de- 
sire; they  may  return  again  very  soon."  Mr.  B.  immediately 
came  out  of  the  building  and,  after  locking  the  door,  departed 
in  company  of  the  farmer.  On  the  way  the  latter  informed  his 
companion  that  he  had  seen  the  smugglers  unload  in  the  creek, 
that  the  following  morning  he  had  seen  him  enter  the  mill,  and 
that  almost  immediately  thereafter  he  had  seen  the  guard  set; 
and  that  he  had  watched  the  place  closely  ever  since  in  order 
to  find  an  opportunity  of  relieving  the  prisoner,  which  had  not 
occurred  until  that  moment. 

What  more  took  place  must  be  left  to  the  imagination  of  the 
reader.  The  story  goes  that  when  the  merchant  found  how 
much  the  farmer  knew,  he  purchased  his  silence  at  a  round 
price,  and  that  the  farmer's  house  thenceforward  was  amply 
supplied  with  various  specimens  of  choice  liquors. 

The  Cement  House — Hamilton  Park 

At  the  corner  of  the  Terrace  and  Franklin  Avenue  stood 
the  Cement  House  built  about  1834  by  George  A.  Ward,  a  gen- 
tleman of  wealth.  This  is  said  to  have  been  the  first  building 
ever  constructed  of  concrete  blocks.  A  local  paper  of  1837  savs 
of  it:    "This  building  is  a  sufficient  curiosity  to  start  half  the 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


29 


world  on  a  pilgrimage  to  Staten  Island."  At  one  time  the  Eng- 
lish Consul  General  occupied  the  place  as  a  summer  home. 
Mrs.  Willcox  recalls  hearing  Mr.  Ward,  the  son  of  the  builder, 
state  that  the  house  was  a  reproduction  of  the  English  house 
in  which  the  older  man  was  born.  It  was  a  square,  two-story 
and  battlemented,  and  either  side  of  the  steps  was  guarded  by 
couchant  lions. 

Hamilton  Park,  bounded  by  York  Avenue,  Prospect  Ave- 
nue, Franklin  Avenue  and  Buchanan  Street,  was  opened  by 
Charles  Hamilton  of  Halifax,  whose  pet  scheme  was  a  bridge 
from  about  the  high  land  of  the  Park  over  the  kills  to  Bergen,  a 
plan  that  seems  feasible,  and  which  could  possibly  be  a  solution 
of  the  present  subway  problem,  over  which  many  of  those  who 
own  their  own  homes  on  Staten  Island  do  not  appear  to  be 
very  enthusiastic. 

August  R.  Grote 

Off  Franklin  Avenue  and  opposite  Christ  Church  formerly 
stood  a  group  of  "Jackson  Cottages."  For  two  years  one  of 
these  was  occupied  by  August  R.  Grote,  the  celebrated  natural- 
ist and  poet,  who  sold  his  collection  of  North  American  moths 
to  the  British  Museum.  Mr.  Grote's  history  rightly  belongs  to 
Rockland  Avenue,  where  his  love  of  nature  had  ample  oppor- 
tunity to  develop. 

An  Exclusive  Ferry 

This  North  Shore  section  thought  so  well  of  itself  that  it 
had  a  ferry  all  its  own  to  which  the  common  people  were  not 
admitted.  The  morning  and  evening  trips  to  and  from  New 
York  were  more  in  the  nature  of  social  gatherings  than  mere 
adventuring  into  the  world  of  business  or  home.  Groups  of 
those  of  similar  tastes  or  interests  came  naturally  together  on 
the  deck  with  reasonable  certainty  that  none  of  the  common 
herd  would  intrude. 

This,  of  course,  tended  to  create  feeling  between  the  native 
born  and  those  who  purchased  the  latter's  land  and  groceries, 
and  unkind  remarks  were  sometimes  passed,  particularly  when 
some  interloper  was  forced  to  retire  from  the  boat.  This  ceased, 
however,  as  better  boats  were  put  on  the  regular  line  which 
in  due  time  the  rich  themselves  patronized  to  the  neglect  of 
their  own  classy,  but  out-classed  ferry. 


30 


NORTH  SHORE 


"The  Stone  Jug" 

At  the  corner  of  Tysen  Street  still  stands  the  picturesque 
stone  residence  built  about  1770  by  Captain  John  Neville,  a  re- 
tired naval  officer.  This  was  at  one  time  the  home  of  Judge 
Jacob  Tysen,  who  was  supervisor  of  the  Town  of  Castleton, 
County  Judge  from  1822  to  1840,  and  State  Senator  in  1828.  He 
was  a  member  of  the  Consistory  that  built  the  present  Dutch 
Church  at  Port  Richmond.  It  was  in  this  house  that  Raymond 
M.  Tysen,  a  son  of  Judge  Tysen,  was  born.  He  was  a  Prince- 
ton graduate  and  studied  law  in  the  office  of  one  of  New  York's 
most  able  lawyers.  John  Anthon  has  said  that  Raymond  Tysen 
was  one  of  the  most  brilliant  young  lawyers  he  knew  and  that 
had  he  lived  his  future  was  assured. 

Raymond  Tysen  gathered  material  for  a  history  of  Staten 
Island,  but  does  not  appear  to  have  published  much  beyond  a 
pamphlet  entitled  "A  Lecture  on  the  History  of  Staten  Island" 
(delivered  before  the  Tompkinsville  Lyceum,  by  Raymond  M. 
Tysen,  Esq.,  Tuesday,  April  12th,  1842).  He  died  in  Savan- 
nah, Ga.,  May  8,  1851,  and  is  buried  in  the  Staten  Island  Ceme- 
tery. West  New  Brighton. 

The  Tysen  farm  was  purchased  for  the  Sailors  Snug  Har- 
bor, which  adjoins  on  the  west.  Those  who  recall  the  palmy 
days  of  the  North  Shore  speak  of  the  Tysen  place  as  one  of  its 
chief  beauty  spots,  with  handsome  flower  beds  bordered  by  box 
and  kept  in  the  most  exquisite  order. 

S^Iors  Snug  Harbor 

In  1801  Robert  Richard  Randall  whose  riches  rolled  in  "by 
honest  privateering",  as  he  put  it,  made  a  will  and  at  the  in- 
stigation of  Alexander  Hamilton*,  who  with  Daniel  D.  Tomp- 
kins had  been  summoned  to  draw  the  will,  left  his  farm  for  the 
benefit  of  "aged,  decrepit  and  wornout  sailors."  He  selected  as 
trustees  the  Chancellor  of  New  York,  Mayor  and  Recorder  of 
New  York  City,  President  of  the  Chamber  of  Commerce,  Presi- 
dent and  Vice-President  of  the  Marine  Society,  and  the  senior 
Clergymen  of  the  Episcopalian  and  Presbyterian  churches  of 
the  city.  The  offices  of  chancellor  and  recorder  have  been  abol- 


*  There  are  those  who  claim  that  the  Sailors  Snug  Harbor  was  the  Cap- 
tain's own  inspiration  and  that  Hamilton  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  incep- 
tion of  the  idea. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


3i 


lished,  the  others  continue.  This  farm  now  lies  in  the  heart  of 
Manhattan,  being  bounded  by  Broadway,  Tenth  Street,  Fourth 
Avenue  and  Waverly  Place. 

In  181 7  Governor  Tompkins  offered  to  donate  to  the  Snug 
Harbor  ten  acres  of  land  on  Staten  Island,  but  the  offer  could 
not  be  accepted  because  at  that  time  the  income  was  not  suffi- 
cient for  the  operating  expenses,  but  by  183 1  conditions  had 
improved  and  the  trustees  purchased  130  acres  where  the  Har- 
bor is  now  situated. 

In  the  course  of  time  the  politicians  discovered  that  the  sail- 
or votes  of  the  institution  were  worth  cultivating,  the  most 
effective  cultivator  being  a  $2  bill.  The  purchasing  of  votes 
became  so  open  and  shameless  that  Captain  G.  D.  S.  Trask, 
governor  of  the  harbor  from  1884  to  1898,  undertook  to  put  a 
stop  to  it,  and  his  assassination  was  unsuccessfully  attempted 
by  a  disgruntled  sailor. 

Logan  Spring  or  Harbor  Brook  runs  through  the  dike, 
which  has  been  built  across  the  swampy  hollow  just  west  of 
the  Sailors  Snug  Harbor. 

"Our  Neighborhood" 

While  New  Brighton  was  distinguished  as  a  brilliant  so- 
cial center,  West  New  Brighton,  or  rather  "Our  Neighbor- 
hood", was  known  to  fame  because  of  its  literary  colony  which 
attracted  many  remarkable  and  interesting  people.  Among 
these  appear  such  names  as  Elliott,  Shaw,  Gay,  Curtis,  Win- 
throp,  Delafield,  Minturn,  Johnson.  Weston,  Tuckerman,  De 
Puyster,  Oakey,  Davidson,  Bard  and  others,  people  of  wide 
literary  fame,  an  important  group  of  so-called  "Black  Re- 
publicans" whose  anti-slavery  sentiments  carried  weight. 
There  was  also  a  goodly  sprinkling  of  men  who  were  a  power 
in  financial  circles  who  preferred  to  exercise  their  intellectual 
faculties  rather  than  their  feet,  a  la  New  Brighton. 

The  Glory  That  Has  Departed 

Mr.  Louis  P.  Gratacap.  long  a  resident  of  "Our  Neighbor- 
hood," has  recorded  his  recollections  of  its  golden  age  as  fol- 
lows : 

"Where  formerly  the  picturesque  bluffs  were  encumbered 
along  their  bases  with  multitudinous  boulders  and  benches  we 
now  have  the  useful  but  scarcely  beautiful  embankments, 


32 


NORTH  SHORE 


bridges  and  fillings  of  the  Rapid  Transit  R.  R.  The  attractive 
cove  that  once  indented  the  shore-line  at  the  Pelton  farmstead 
is  being  rapidly  obliterated ;  the  little  banks  over  which  strag- 
gled a  wandering  foot-worn  path  from  Davis  Avenue  to  the 
same  cove,  is  not  recalled  in  the  smoothed  slopes  of  the  deco- 
rous terrace. 

"The  sleeping  or  swiftly  passing  fleets  of  oyster  sloops 
formed  a  beautiful  feature  of  that  ancient  day.  Boating  was  a 
favorite  pastime  along  the  shore  and  the  nights  were  often 
charmed  with  song  from  the  many  boat-parties  that  were  oared 
along  its  banks. 

"Old  land-marks  in  the  stylish  old  frame  villas  with  their 
scrupulous  lawns,  their  pretentious  neatness  and  freshness  have 
all  gone  now  and  the  wretched  wrecks  of  themselves  only  re- 
main. 

"Factoryville  was — let  me  confess — perhaps  a  less  tidy 
place  than  it  is  today,  but  it  had  its  interesting  picturesqueness 
and  the  old  "Yellow  Row"  is  recalled  as  a  spot  where  the  bel- 
ligerent small  boy  lurked  for  his  foe;  while  the  murky  black- 
purple  tide  of  the  Dye-House  stream  blighted  the  scene. 

"A  small  group  of  houses — many  of  them  still  standing — at 
the  present  station  of  Livingston,  was  known  as  Elliottville, 
named  so  from  the  famous  oculist,  Dr.  Elliott,  who  erected 
them.  An  old  deserted  church  for  a  long  time  stood  facing  the 
present  First  Street,  its  congregation  having  built  at  the  head 
of  Davis  Avenue  the  present  St.  Mary's.  Facing  the  hillside 
south  of  this  was  in  the  spring  a  wonderful  vision  of  white  flow- 
ering dogwood,  those  ghostly  apparelled  trees  that  gave  the 
name  of  Aquehonga  to  our  island  among  the  early  Indians. 

"The  present  Livingston  station  was  then  a  commodious 
home,  occupied  in  1865  by  the  Rikers,  later  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  An- 
son Livingston  and  their  daughters,  Miss  Livingston  and  Mrs. 
Harrison.  It  stood  well  out  in  the  waters  of  the  channel.  Fur- 
ther along  the  shore  road  the  present  boarding  house  at  the 
foot  of  Davis  Avenue  was  a  retired  villa,  belonging,  I  think,  to 
a  Mr.  Parker,  whose  gardens  were  hopelessly  hidden  by  a  high 
board  fence. 

"It  was  then  that  there  rose  at  the  foot  of  Bement  Avenue 
three  towering  Lombardy  poplars,  whose  dark  green  columns, 
stiff  and  effective,  were  well  recognized  landmarks  up  and 
down  the  channel.  Beyond  them  on  the  shore  side  of  the  road, 
and  opposite  the  Gothic  villa  of  Mr.  Edward  Bement,  was  a  line 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


33 


of  beautiful  flowering  dogwood,  whose  white  splendors  made 
the  road  there  a  pathway  of  delight.  A  walk  on  the  shore  side 
of  the  road  prevailed  all  the  way  from  Snug  Harbor  to  Factory- 
ville,  and  beyond,  as  now ;  and  when,  by  a  popular  subscription, 
a  board  walk  was  laid  its  entire  length,  the  inhabitants,  un- 
sophisticated indeed,  felt  themselves  metropolitanized  by  rea- 
son of  this  expensive  convenience.  Later  again  the  Shore  Road 
was  invaded  by  a  horse-car  track,  traversed  by  cars  whose 
gradual  dilapidation  passed  through  every  phase  of  decay  until 
the  forlorn  objects,  drawn  by  horses,  became  a  by-word  and  a 
nuisance. 

"Changes  have  altered  the  expression,  character,  and  fea- 
tures of  the  old  Shore  Road.  Its  glories  have  departed,  and  the 
wholesome  beauty  of  much  of  it  is  irrevocably  lost.  It  is  lined 
with  wrecks  of  former  comeliness  and  luxury,  and  the  fair  love- 
liness of  the  old  Kill-van-Kull  itself,  in  the  days  when  its 
depths  were  filled  with  fish,  when  oyster  beds  were  dredged  op- 
posite Pelton's  cove  and  when  schools  of  porpoises  rolled 
through  its  sparkling  waters,  is  also  just  a  memory.  In  those 
long  past  years  inhabitants  of  Bergen  Point,  Newark,  Eliza- 
beth and  Elizabethport  were  carried  to  New  York  in  two  hand- 
some passenger  boats — the  Red  Jacket  and  the  Wyoming — and 
on  one  freight  boat,  the  Huguenot.  The  Richard  R.  Stockton 
sped  from  Perth  Amboy  to  New  York,  our  swiftest  steamer, 
whose  wash  we  boys  almost  feared  and  on  its  return  from  New 
York  brought  with  it  the  daily  papers,  which,  thrown  over- 
board in  the  Kills,  in  a  rubber  bag,  were  picked  up  by  the  row- 
boat  of  our  single  and  omnipresent  newspaper  man. 

"There  have  been  great  compensations  in  all  of  the  recent 
changes,  and  living  is  certainly  relieved  of  many  of  its  former 
hardships,  but  the  atmosphere,  the  environment,  the  unaffected 
simplicity — yes,  and  a  certain  pleasing  stateliness  as  well — the 
mere  physical  purity,  and  grace  of  the  old  times,  along  the  Old 
Shore  Road  are  all  quite  destroyed." 

The  Livingstons  and  One  Watson 

We  shall  begin  with  the  Livingston  house,  now  the  railroad 
station. 

Livingston  is  a  name  of  recent  origin,  adopted  by  the  Rapid 
Transit  as  a  name  for  its  station  here.  The  depot  building  is 
the  former  residence  of  Anson  Livingston.  Because  of  its  ex- 
posed position,  the  house  was  known  as  Bleak  House. 


34 


NORTH  SHORE 


The  Livingston  family  consisted  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Living- 
ston and  two  daughters,  Mrs.  Harrison  and  Miss  Living- 
ston. The  father  was  a  typical  gentleman  of  the  old  school, 
tall,  handsome,  gracious  and,  while  always  a  gentleman,  just 
as  human  as  the  rest  of  us.  It  is  told  how,  one  day,  when  the 
family  was  driving  over  Todt  Hill,  Mrs.  Livingston  persisted 
in  calling  it  To-ad  Hill,  much  to  the  annoyance  of  the  precise 
head  of  the  family  who,  after  numerous  unheeded  corrections, 
remarked :  "Mrs.  Livingston,  if  you  call  this  eminence  'To-ad' 
Hill  again,  I  shall  get  out  upon  the  'ro-ad'  and  walk  home." 
And,  according  to  gossip,  he  fulfilled  his  vow  to  the  uttermost. 

The  father  and  daughters  spent  much  time  on  horseback. 
Always,  before  they  started,  the  careful  Mrs.  Livingston  ex- 
plored the  road  before  the  house  for  loose  stones,  which  she 
gathered,  lest  the  horses  should  stumble.  Mrs.  Livingston 
was  strongly  intrenched  in  her  social  position  and  family 
pride.  What  a  Livingston  did  was  right,  regardless  of  the 
customs  of  the  world  at  large.  It  was  her  habit  to  take  a  morn- 
ing walk  up  Bard  Avenue.  On  these  occasions,  she  wore  a 
"short  gown  and  petticoat"  and  a  green  calash,  the  whole  being 
surmounted  by  a  small  parasol.  This  was  not  an  outdoor  cos- 
tume becoming  to  a  lady  of  her  station  in  life,  and  if  she  met 
any  of  the  neighbors  she  lowered  the  parasol  and  did  not  see 
them,  the  dress  acting  as  a  disguise.  So,  also,  if  a  caller  caught 
her  on  hei  piazza  in  a  costume  not  suitable  for  the  occasion, 
she  gave  no  sign  of  recognition  or  notice,  she  merely  turned 
her  head  aside  and  ignored  the  friend  on  the  steps. 

The  French  class  met  at  the  Livingstons.  Mrs.  Staples 
and  the  Johnsons  were  members.  On  one  occasion  the  novel 
read  had  much  to  say  concerning  a  particularly  worthless  and 
dissipated  youth.  Each  time  this  character  was  mentioned, 
Mrs.  Carroll  Livingston  would  exclaim:  "How  like  my  Car- 
roll !   Mr.  Carroll  to  the  life !" 

Chip  Livingston  is  recalled  as  an  important  member  of  the 
family,  very  dear  to  the  ladies  who  endowed  him  with  vastly 
more  intelligence  than,  in  the  opinion  of  the  neighbors,  the  facts 
warranted.  Chip  was  small,  and  black  and  tan,  and  wagged  a 
happy  tail ;  but  he  went  where  they  went,  leaving  an  engraved 
pasteboard  —  "Mr.  Chip  Livingston" — when  they  left  their 
cards.  Yet  Chip  had  his  lapses,  for  we  have  it  on  the  authority 
of  Mrs.  Livingston  herself,  that  "he  went  down  to  the  rocks 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


35 


at  the  river's  edge  and  played  with  the  rats  and  other 
creatures." 

The  daughters  were  clever  actors,  and  often  took  part  in 
private  theatricals  with  the  now  grown-up  members  of  the 
Richmond  County  Dramatic  Society,  Mrs.  Staples  coaching. 
DeWolf  Hopper,  a  nice  young  Quaker  school  boy,  but  even 
then  showing  great  talent  for  dramatics,  often  acted  with  them. 
His  Captain  Absolute  was  a  charming  rendering  of  that  gay 
and  happy  youth. 

Mrs.  Livingston  was  present  at  a  rehearsal  one  evening, 
and  so  perfect  was  his  love  scene  with  the  heroine  in  "Naval 
Engagements,"  that  she,  Mrs.  Livingston,  felt  called  upon  to 
insist  that  the  young  people  should  "Make  it  real,  my  dear." 
She  called  first  the  young  lady  and  suggested  it,  and  then  dis- 
missed her,  promising  "to  make  it  quite  right  with  the  young 
man."  The  poor  boy  was  terribly  embarrassed  when  he 
emerged  from  the  interview,  and  only  great  tact  and  an 
"elderly-sister"  attitude  saved  the  occasion  and  the  play. 

Long  before  the  Livingstons  came  to  the  house,  it  had  been 
occupied  by  a  family  named  Watson.  Mr.  Watson  was  a  great 
student  of  Shakespeare  and  a  very  original  mind.  He  loved 
in  the  summer  evenings  to  walk  under  the  great  cherry  trees 
which  then  stood  in  the  center  of  what  is  now  the  asphalt  road- 
bed of  Davis  Avenue,  and  repeat  Shakespeare  aloud — there  was 
only  one  house  within  hearing  then.  One  night  he  had  his 
little  boy  with  him,  and  was  instructing  him  in  the  knowledge 
of  the  great  poet.  Mr.  Watson  would  say,  with  emphasis: 
"  'Shylock  is  m'  name.'  Now,  say  it!  Say  it!"  Little  Freddy 
in  his  childish  treble  would  obediently  repeat :  "Shylock  is  my 
name!"  This  not  being  satisfactory  or  dramatic,  they  would 
try  again,  Mr.  Watson  emphatically  shouting,  "Shylock  is  m' 
name,"  and  little  Freddy  would  pipe  out,  indifferently  and 
without  emphasis,  as  an  uncomprehending  child  would, 
"An'  Shylock  is  my  name,'*  till  Mr.  Watson,  exasperated,  would 
shout :   "Damn  it !   Damn  it !   Can't  you  say  it  this  way?" 

Once  he  asked  Mr.  Gay  what  he  ate  for  lunch  and,  on  being 
told  "oyster  stew",  he  exclaimed:  "Good!  I  often  wonder 
what  is  the  use  of  putting  the  whole  machinery  of  a  man's 
stomach  into  motion  for  one  damn  cracker." 


36 


NORTH  SHORE 


Elliottville 

On  maps  of  50  years  or  more  ago  this  locality  is  noted  as 
Elliottville. 

When  Dr.  Samuel  McKenzie  Elliott  came  to  Staten  Island 
about  183 1  or  1832,  he  occupied  a  farm  house,  still  standing, 
which  faced  the  water  between  Bard  and  Davis  Avenues.  As 
the  Doctor  is  said  to  have  occupied  30  houses  in  the  28  years 
he  resided  on  the  Island,  it  is  to  be  presumed  he  did  not  long 
remain  here.  The  next  tenant  in  this  house  was  John  Bard, 
after  whom  Bard  Avenue  was  named,  and  his  successor  was 
Edward  Wanten  Gould. 

Dr.  Elliott  purchased  land  west  from  Bard  Avenue.  The 
avenue  originally  was  a  farm  lane  and  in  the  early  days  was 
known  as  "Nurses  Lane"  because  its  quiet  shade  was  popular 
with  nurse  maids  and  their  young  charges.  When  the  Doctor 
began  to  develop  the  property  he  put  up  along  the  lane  signs 
bearing  the  name  Elliottville.  There  was  opposition  to  this 
name  and  the  Delafield  boys,  grandsons  of  John  Bard,  des- 
troyed the  signs  and  put  up  "Bard  Avenue"  in  their  place  and 
as  the  boys  were  more  persistent  than  the  Doctor,  the  name 
remained. 

It  is  related  that  Dr.  Elliott  was  so  firmly  convinced  that 
Staten  Island  was  to  be  the  great  civic  center  in  days  to  come, 
that  when  he  was  offered  the  choice  of  the  sites  now  occupied 
by  the  Flatiron  Building  or  the  Metropolitan  Life  Insurance 
Company,  on  Manhattan  Island,  or  this  property  at  West  New 
Brighton,  he  chose  the  latter  as  holding  the  best  prospects  for 
the  future — so  well  did  the  Island  think  of  itself  in  the  eighteen- 
thirties. 

Dr.  Elliott  was  a  remarkable  man.  He  was  the  first  medi- 
cal practitioner  in  this  country  who  made  a  specialty  of  the 
eyes.  Methods  were  crude  and  he  was  compelled  to  originate 
at  every  turn.  Mrs.  Curtis  has  stated  that  the  Doctor  would 
require  his  patient  to  lie  on  his  back  on  the  floor  and,  while  he 
operated,  held  the  head  of  the  sufferer  firmly  between  his  knees. 
We  all  know  how  difficult  it  is  to  do  two  distinctly  different 
things  at  the  same  time  and,  when  we  consider  that  chloroform 
was  only  discovered  in  1831,  and  that  anaesthetics  were  not 
then  commonly  used,  a  patient  undergoing  such  an  operation 
would  not  be  apt  to  lie  still.  That  the  doctor  could  keep  his 
mind  on  his  knees  which  were  acting  as  a  vise  and  also  on  his 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


37 


hands  that  were  performing  one  of  the  most  delicate  operations 
known,  is  more  than  remarkable. 

The  most  noted  men  of  the  country  came  to  Dr.  Elliott  for 
treatment.  Francis  George  Shaw,  father  of  Mrs.  George  Wil- 
liam Curtis,  removed  from  Boston  to  Staten  Island  to  be  near 
the  doctor  on  account  of  his  wife's  eyes. 

When  the  Civil  War  came  the  Doctor,  who  was  a  Scotch- 
man, advertised  for  "red-headed  Macs  with  a  bad  temper",  and 
organized  the  "Seventy-ninth  Highlanders"  at  his  own  ex- 
pense, some  $30,000.  His  daughter,  Miss  Elizabeth,  who  until 
recently  lived  on  Staten  Island,  acted  as  enrolling  officer,  and 
all  his  three  sons  enlisted.  The  New  York  Tribune  of  May  7. 
1875,  spoke  of  him  as  "emphatically  one  of  the  men  who  impart 
the  element  of  the  picturesque  to  common  affairs,  a  person  of 
very  strong,  original,  eccentric  character.  A  man  of  positive 
genius  in  his  profession." 

The  Doctor  was  extremely  eccentric,  but  very  kind.  He 
had  many  charity  patients  who  came  for  treatment  early  in  the 
morning.  On  these  he  worked  until  the  8  o'clock  boat  passed 
the  end  of  Bard  Avenue,  would  then  jump  into  his  buggy  and 
race  the  boat  to  the  second  landing.  This  was  his  regular 
morning  programme. 

The  Doctor  left  many  pleasant  and  humorous  memories  be- 
hind him.  In  the  days  when  spirit  rappings  were  taken  seri- 
ously, a  party  consisting  of  the  Shaws,  the  Elliotts  and  others 
was  amusing  itself  one  evening  listening  to  rappings  and  la- 
boriously translating  them.  The  code  was  so  simple  that  any 
ghost  could  understand  it;  one  rap  meant  A,  two  B,  etc.  Fi- 
nally some  one  said,  let's  ask  who  it  is  that  is  sending  us  these 
messages  from  the  other  world.  When  they  did,  the  answer 
that  came  consisted  of  a  series  of  consonants  that  those  pres- 
ent could  not  translate.  A  second  call  brought  the  same  iden- 
tical response.  Finally,  some  one  noticed  a  singular  expression 
on  the  Doctor's  face  and  asked  if  he  had  any  explanation  of  the 
answer.  "Yes,"  said  he,  "that  is  the  name  of  my  Welsh  grand- 
mother." 

One  of  the  houses  erected  by  Dr.  Elliott  was  the  Decatur 
house  on  the  north  side  of  Livingston  Place.  Decatur  was  a 
lineal  descendant  of  Commodore  Decatur.  There  was  a  nar- 
row strip  in  the  garden  of  the  Decatur  plot  on  which  the  Doc- 
tor erected  a  church  so  small  it  was  like  a  toy,  but  though 
small,  it  was  very  complete,  having  among  other  things  a  bar- 


38 


NORTH  SHORE 


rel  organ  fitted  with  the  entire  music  for  the  Episcopal  service. 
This  church  was  called  St.  Mary's  and  when  it  became  too 
small,  a  new  St.  Mary's  at  Castleton  and  Davis  Avenues  was 
built.  The  entire  silver  service  was  presented  by  the  Doctor. 
The  small  original  church  building  was  burned  some  time  after 
it  was  vacated,  by  a  crazed  incendiary  who  lived  in  a  hovel  on 
the  shore  at  the  foot  of  Davis  Avenue  and  who  was  a  terror  to 
the  neighborhood. 

Dr.  S.  R.  Elliott,  eldest  son  of  Dr.  S.  M.  Elliott,  who  lived 
and  died  in  a  house,  which  stood  until  recently  on  the  water- 
side at  the  foot  of  Bard  Avenue,  was  another  remarkable  man. 
Gottschalk,  hearing  him  compose  certain  dreamy  melodies  pre- 
dicted a  wonderful  future  as  a  musician.  Longfellow  offered 
to  bring  him  up  for  a  literary  career  because  of  his  quaint 
verses.  He  was  the  champion  broadswordman  at  the  Univer- 
sity of  Heidelberg  when  studying  there. 

In  Paris  there  came  to  him  high  honors  for  his  work  in  both 
medicine  and  music.  He  was  requested  by  the  Empress  Eu- 
genie to  play  before  the  imperial  court  where  he  won  great  ap- 
plause. He  served  through  the  Civil  War,  taking  part  in  30 
engagements.  Many  stories  of  his  heroism  are  told.  He  with 
a  chum  composed  several  sermons  which  were  preached  by  a 
leading  divine  and  which  became  famous  for  their  literary  qual- 
ities and  profound  theological  erudition. 

His  physical  strength  was  abnormal.  Indian  clubs  which 
he  used  habitually  were  almost  too  heavy  for  the  ordinary 
man  to  lift.  He  could  crack  a  coin  with  his  fingers.  He  once 
carried  five  men  up  a  long  and  steep  flight  of  stairs.  His  mem- 
ory was  as  phenomenal  as  his  physical  strength.  Once  he  read 
a  poem  that  appealed  to  him  he  never  forgot  it.  It  was  the 
same  with  an  opera.  He  wrote  prose  and  poetry  for  the  At- 
lantic Monthly,  Harper's  Weekly,  the  Churchman  and  the  Con- 
gregationalism Such  is  an  extremely  brief  summary  of  an  un- 
usual character. 

Warren  Weston 

Warren  Weston  who  lived  at  the  easterly  corner  of  the  Ter- 
race and  Bard  Avenue  was  one  of  the  old  East  India  tea  mer- 
chants of  the  days  when  the  clipper  ships  in  the  tea  trade  were 
the  fastest  ships  that  sailed  the  seas,  a  period  of  sea  romance 
such  as  only  the  days  of  the  Vikings  can  equal,  though  very 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


39 


different.  Mr.  Weston  was  full  of  humor,  a  most  agreeable 
companion  and,  while  not  a  writer  of  note  as  were  so  many  of 
his  neighbors,  he  yet  possessed  a  considerable  skill  in  language. 

John  Parkman 

The  John  Parkman  place.  This  house  stands  immediately 
east  of  the  Weston  home.  Its  date  of  erection  is  not  known,  but 
it  must  be  considerably  over  a  hundred  years  ago,  if  the  state- 
ments of  a  former  slave  well  known  hereabouts  in  years  long 
gone  are  to  be  relied  on.  He  has  told  Mrs.  Curtis  that  he  was 
born  in  the  house  the  year  after  the  law  was  passed  in  New 
York,  which  freed  all  those  born  of  slave  parents.  This  act  is 
dated  in  April,  1799.  This  man's  name  was  Nicholas  DeHart 
and  he  was  generally  regarded  as  very  reliable.  The  cellar 
beams  of  the  house  show  that  they  were  hewn  by  hand,  and  the 
woodwork  throughout  is  hand  carved.  The  earliest  name  now 
available  of  ownership  is  that  of  Abraham  Crocheron  who 
deeded  the  property  in  1835.  Livingston  Place,  now  called  De- 
lafield  Place,  which  runs  back  of  it,  was  formerly  called  Croch- 
eron Avenue  and  later  First  Street.  This  last  name  is  used  in 
Beer's  Atlas  of  1874. 

"Claus" 

One  of  the  earliest  recollections  of  the  children  of  Our 
Neighborhood  was  "Old  Claus".  It  was  Mr.  Parker  who  gave 
him  this  name,  his  real  one  being  Nicholas  De  Hart. 

He  was  born  a  slave  on  the  Crocheron  farm,  which  lay 
south  of  what  is  now  Livingston  Station,  and  of  which  Bard 
Avenue  was  the  lane  running  back  to  the  fields.  There  was 
no  shore  road  then,  no  transverse  street — the  farmers  went 
from  farm  to  farm  by  rowboat.  The  "top"  of  Bard  and  Davis 
Avenues  was  thick  woods  long  after  the  time  Claus  was  born. 
The  Crocheron  house  stood  near  the  end  of  the  lane,  with  an 
unbroken  view  of  the  Kills  and  up  the  Bay. 

When  the  slaves  were  set  free,  many  of  them  went  to  Sandy 
Ground,  which  was  well  named!  I  have  read  that  with  the 
emancipation  of  the  slaves  in  the  North  it  was  customary  to 
give  them  a  bit  of  land  for  settlement,  and  characteristically 
the  poorest  ground  was  selected.  Sandy  Ground  did  not  prove 
a  very  paying  proposition,  so  the  colored  men  took  to  oystering 
and  made  good.   Before  our  waters  were  so  polluted  by  factory 


4o 


NORTH  SHORE 


waste  that  no  oyster  can  live  in  them,  there  were  many  com- 
fortable homes  in  Sandy  Ground — staunch  oyster  sloops  rode 
at  anchor  off  Rossville,  owned  and  manned  by  colored  men. 

Claus  was  only  a  boy  when  he  was  emancipated,  and  he 
stayed  with  his  mother  and  worked  for  the  neighbors.  He  be- 
came an  experienced  gardener  and  took  care  of  Mr.  Parker's 
garden.  Mr.  Parker  lived  in  the  big  house  on  the  corner  of 
Davis  Avenue  and  the  shore.  They  were  Boston  people  who, 
following  the  custom  of  their  fellow-countrymen,  left  their  city 
houses  always  before  the  May  taxes  were  levied.  They  had  one 
daughter  and  entertained  a  great  deal.  The  house  was  un- 
heated  save  for  the  open  fires.  The  west  wing  was  not  con- 
nected with  the  main  house,  but  was  reached  by  an  outside 
staircase  and  was  used  for  the  men  guests. 

Miss  Parker  became  Mrs.  Charles  Goodhue,  and  lived  in 
the  big  house  at  the  head  of  Clinton  Avenue,  and  which  she  ul- 
timately willed  to  the  Children's  Aid  Society  for  a  country 
home. 

Later  Claus  gardened  for  my  parents,  and  a  fine  garden  they 
had  in  the  rich,  fresh  loam  of  unused  soil.  My  mother  used 
to  hire  old  Mr.  Fountain's  carryall  and,  with  the  baby  in  her 
arms,  she  and  Claus,  his  spade  at  his  feet,  would  drive  up  the 
lane  to  the  woods.  When  they  saw  a  fine,  vigorous  young  tree, 
beech  or  elm  or  oak,  out  Claus  would  climb  and  proceed  to  dig 
it  up.  In  this  way  many  of  the  native  trees  were  moved  to 
our  place,  and  Claus  to  the  day  of  his  death  had  a  strong  sense 
of  proprietorship  in  them.  To  the  trees  my  father  bought  and 
set  out  he  was  more  or  less  indifferent. 

When  he  was  too  old  for  gardening  he  went  into  the  oyster 
business.  He  and  Aunt  Mary  Ann  lived  in  a  tiny  house  under 
the  hill  on  the  old  Factoryville  dock  at  the  foot  of  Broadway. 
He  bought  the  oysters  fresh  from  the  oyster  boats.  We  grew 
good  oysters  in  the  Kills  and  the  Bay  then,  and  it  was  a  com- 
mon sight  to  see  the  big  rowboats  swaying  in  the  swells  from 
the  ferryboats,  a  man  standing  at  either  end  with  his  long- 
handled  oyster  rake,  scooping  up  the  unsuspecting  bivalve. 

These  oysters  Aunt  Mary  Ann  cooked  and  served  on  the 
spot,  or  Claus  carried  them  uncooked  to  our  houses.  Espe- 
cially lucky  was  the  child  into  whose  portion  of  oyster  stew 
or  soup  there  slipped  a  tiny,  pink-cooked,  tender  young  crab. 
And  never  is  to  be  forgotten  the  feast  when  Claus  brought  a 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


4i 


whole  half-pint  of  the  little  things  as  a  gift.  And  yet,  there 
was  a  little  shiver  attending  the  first  scrunch! 

A  lovely,  sunny  nature  had  old  Claus,  and  dearly  beloved 
was  he  by  old  and  young.  He  had  several  children,  and  their 
descendants  still  live  on  Staten  Island. 

Mary  Otis  (Gay)  Willcox. 

The  John  Bards 

The  John  Bards  lived  in  the  house  at  the  corner  of  Bard 
Avenue  and  Delafield  Place,  well  set  back  from  the  trees  on  a 
little  rise  of  ground.  Recently  it  was  moved  onto  Bard  Ave- 
nue— a  long,  low  house  with  gables  facing  the  road.  Mr.  Bard 
must  have  owned  part  of  the  meadow  which  lay  between  his 
property  and  the  Harbor,  because  it  was  Mr.  Bard  who  thought 
he  could  better  Nature  by  changing  the  course  of  the  brook 
which  now  runs  straight  to  the  Kills.  In  those  days  it  mean- 
dered back  and  forth  across  the  meadow,  which  was  perfectly 
dry  and  filled  with  soft  meadow  grass  and  flowers;  the 
straightening  of  this  brook  left  less  bed  to  hold  the  water  when 
the  tide  backed  up  the  entrance  to  the  stream,  causing  its  banks 
to  overflow  with  a  brackish  mixture,  thus  changing  the  char- 
acter of  the  meadow  to  a  swampy  hollow,  which  is  now  being 
painstakingly  filled  in  by  the  Sailors  Snug  Harbor. 

Mrs.  Delafield  was  John  Bard's  daughter,  and  lived  in  the 
house  on  the  corner  opposite  her  father.  This  at  first  they  used 
as  a  summer  place,  having  what  was  very  rare  in  this  neigh- 
borhood, an  outside  kitchen  in  a  building  quite  detached  from 
the  house.  In  after  years  they  lived  here  all  the  year  round, 
and  it  was  a  puzzle  to  the  neighbors  how,  on  a  cold  winter's 
morning,  the  griddle  cakes  could  be  served  hot. 

Another  daughter  of  Mr.  Bard  was  a  Mrs.  Sands,  and  she 
had  two  sons,  of  whom  Mr.  Louis  Sands  came  back  to  the 
Island  to  live  with  his  aunt,  Miss  Caroline  Bard,  who  had 
moved  with  her  mother,  on  the  death  of  Mr.  Bard,  into  the  old 
house  on  the  shore  road  next  door  to  Mrs.  Staples. 

Mr.  Sands  was  an  artist  and,  one  day,  when  he  was  sketch- 
ing up  in  one  of  the  Harbor  fields,  he  heard  cries  of  distress 
from  beyond  the  stone  wall.  Climbing  over  the  wall,  he  dis- 
covered that  Miss  Catherine  Duer,  of  New  Brighton,  had  come 
in  violent  contact  with  that  dread  animal,  the  Harbor  bull. 
The  beast  had  charged  her  and  she,  with  great  presence  of  mind 
and  accuracy,  had  flung  herself  between  his  horns,  and  the 


42 


NORTH  SHORE 


sight  which  presented  itself  to  Mr.  Sands'  eyes  was  that  of 
the  bull,  frightened  and  angry,  madly  prancing  about  the  field 
with  Miss  Duer's  arms  clasped  close  around  his  neck,  her 
flapping  skirts  completely  covering  his  face.  Mr.  Sands,  like 
a  chevalier  of  old,  sprang  to  the  rescue  and  seized  the  beast  by 
the  tail.  The  poor  creature,  attacked  before  and  behind,  be- 
came more  frightened  than  ever,  and  charged  wildly  about  the 
field,  Miss  Duer  shrieking  and  flapping  her  feet  in  front;  Mr. 
Sands,  who  had  very  long  legs,  running  madly  behind.  They 
were  rescued  by  workmen  from  the  institution  grounds. 

Mrs.  Delafield  and  Miss  Bard  were  ladies  of  the  old  school  : 
Mrs.  Delafield  rather  vivacious  and  full  of  humor;  Miss  Bard 
courteous,  quiet  and  demure. 

It  was  two  of  the  Delafield  boys  and  two  of  Mr.  Hoyt's 
sons,  who  lived  on  Elm  Court,  and  a  Bement  boy,  all  young 
men  and  ardent  Unionists,  who,  hearing  that  a  Confederate 
flag  was  hanging  in  the  Gardner  house  on  Broadway,  West 
Brighton,  conceived  the  idea  of  getting  this  Rebel  banner. 
Mrs.  Tyler,  the  widow  of  President  Tyler,  lived  in  the  house. 
The  boys  went  up  one  evening  and  rang  the  bell,  found  a  com- 
pany of  gentlemen  playing  cards  with  Mrs.  Tyler,  and  an- 
nounced that  they  had  come  for  the  flag.  One  of  the  gentle- 
men, on  seeing  the  young  men,  took  refuge  under  the  sofa,  and 
none  of  them  offered  any  resistance.  The  flag  was  found  up- 
stairs, and  the  boys  took  it.  It  was  kept  in  o  :e  house  or  the 
other,  being  moved  at  night,  no  parent  knew  when,  until  finally 
Governor  Dix,  in  response  to  the  appeal  of  Mrs.  Gardner,  sent 
his  aides  here  to  demand  the  flag.  This  order,  of  course,  had  to 
be  obeyed. 

Mr.  Sands  built  a  little  studio  at  the  back  of  his  aunt's 
property  and,  as  he  was  a  Catholic,  he  dubbed  the  tiny  place 
"The  Vatican".  Mr.  Sands  was  an  exceedingly  tall  and  thin 
man.  It  was  he  who  said,  when  he  and  his  aunt  moved  into 
the  little  one-story  and  mansard  house,  where  Mrs.  Bard  died, 
that  when  he  wanted  to  turn  around  in  his  bedroom,  he  had  to 
go  out  in  the  hall  to  do  it. 

Mary  Otis  (Gay)  Willcox. 

The  Bailey  House 

John  Bailey  lived  on  Bard  Avenue  in  another  of  Dr.  Elliott's 
houses  on  the  northwest  corner  of  Bard  Avenue  and  Delafield 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


43 


Place.  His  sayings  would  fill  a  book,  but  unfortunately  most 
of  them  come  under  the  heading  of  profane  history  and  have 
no  place  here.  Apparently,  Mr.  Bailey  was  something  of  a 
martinet,  and  ruled  his  household  firmly,  for  we  are  told  that  a 
rice  pudding  came  on  the  table  one  night  that  was  not  to  his 
liking  and,  taking  it  to  the  dumbwaiter  shaft,  he  called  to  the 
boss  of  the  lower  regions  and,  as  she  responded  and  looked 
up,  he  anointed  her  head  with  rice  pudding.  Biddy  was  Irish 
to  the  pig's  backbone,  not  one  of  those  who  turn  the  other 
cheek,  and  she  straightway  walked  up  to  the  West  Brighton 
Police  Station,  to  the  magistrate,  with  the  evidence  of  the 
assault  on  her  person.  The  result  is  not  known,  but  apparently 
it  had  a  soothing  effect  for,  when  some  time  after,  he  was 
asked  concerning  a  former  occupant  of  his  kitchen,  he  spoke 
well  concerning  her,  winding  up  with,  "Treat  'em  kind — you 
got  to  treat  'em  kind." 

At  the  back  of  the  house  is  a  cellarway,  mound-shaped,  cov- 
ered with  sod  and  edged  with  stone,  and  it  was  popularly 
rumored  that  Mr.  Bailey  told  his  cooks  that  was  where  he  in- 
carcerated them  if  the  food  was  not  to  his  liking. 

From  the  side  piazza  the  lawn  stretched  to  the  Shore  Road, 
shaded  by  stately  pines;  a  box-edged  walk  divided  it  in  the 
center.   Every  vestige  of  its  peaceful  beauty  is  gone  long  since. 

This  house  was  one  of  Dr.  Elliott's,  and  the  Elliott  family 
lived  there  for  a  time,  as  they  always  did  in  each  new  house,  ap- 
parently to  "break  it  in"  as  a  trainer  does  a  new  horse  before 
selling  him. 

Sometime  in  the  '50's,  James  Russel  Lowell  and  his  most 
lovely  wife,  Maria,  came  to  Staten  Island  that  she  might  be 
under  the  immediate  care  of  Dr.  Elliott.  They  were  a  tran- 
scendently  lovely  couple,  full  of  grace  and  beauty  of  both  body 
and  mind,  equals  in  every  particular.  They  boarded  with  the 
Elliotts  in  this  house,  occupying  the  room  on  the  first  floor, 
northeast  corner,  facing  both  streets.  Accommodations  were 
a  bit  primitive,  even  for  those  days,  but  they  were  not  prepared 
to  be  waked  the  first  morning  by  a  rap  on  the  door  and  a 
voice  demanding  admission  that  the  "sugar  basin  for  breakfast 
might  be  fetched  from  the  cupboard".  Later  in  the  day  dear, 
kind-hearted  Mrs.  Elliott  asked  if  she  should  bring  her  work 
and  sit  with  the  rather  lonesome  little  invalid.  In  she  came, 
bringing  the  chickens  to  pluck  for  dinner,  a  strange  piece  of 
fancywork  for  an  afternoon  call. 


44 


NORTH  SHORE 


Mrs.  John  B.  Staples 

In  the  middle  of  the  block  between  Bard  and  Davis  Ave- 
nues, on  the  Shore  Road,  lived  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Staples.  The 
front  door  was  reached  by  a  straight  brick  walk  from  the  front 
gate,  leading  under  tall,  dark  pine  trees  to  the  high  Grecian- 
pillared  portico  which  stretched  across  the  front  of  the  house. 
Opposite,  on  the  shore,  stood  the  Staples'  boathouse,  an  im- 
posing structure  where  all  the  neighbors'  children  learned  to 
swim,  and  from  which  Mrs.  Staples'  delightful  crabbing  parties 
started.  Several  times  a  summer  she  took  her  boys  and  a 
chosen  few  of  their  small  friends  across  the  Kills  to  the  Jersey 
meadows,  where  now  tower  the  chimneys  and  tanks  of  big  in- 
dustry. The  little  creeks  which  wound  through  the  salt 
marshes  were  full  of  crabs  and,  as  the  rowboat  was  poled  along 
the  twisting  course  of  the  stream,  the  children,  supplied  with 
line  and  bait,  hung  eagerly  over  the  sides  while  Jack  Staples 
or  some  other  big  boy,  armed  with  the  net,  would  hurry  from 
one  excited,  shrieking  child  to  another  to  scoop  up  the  wiggling 
crab.  Mrs.  Staples,  seated  in  the  stern  of  the  boat,  kept  it  right 
side  up  and  the  children  safely  in  it. 

It  was  from  the  Staples'  boathouse,  too,  that  the  boys  used 
to  start  on  a  perilous  winter  sport  called  "poling".  In  those 
days  the  Kills  were  filled  with  ice  in  winter.  Then  the  big 
cakes  from  Newark  Bay  were  not  swept  out  by  the  current, 
but  drifted  back  and  forth  as  the  tide  willed.  When  these 
touched  at  the  Staples'  landing,  our  boys  used  to  arm  them- 
selves with  long  poles  and,  selecting  a  thick  cake,  would  essay 
a  little  voyage.  They  never  went  far  from  shore  (at  least,  their 
mothers  thought  they  did  not),  and  none  of  them  ever  drowned, 
but  it  must  have  been  owing  to  that  kind  Providence  which 
looks  after  the  small  boy. 

Mrs.  Staples'  Christmas  trees  were  an  undying  wonder  to 
us  all;  nothing  less  than  a  born  genius  could  have  created 
them:  A  great,  towering  mass  of  a  tree  reaching  from  the 
floor  to  what  seemed  to  be  a  ceiling  of  infinite  height,  cov- 
ered thick  with  a  shining,  sparkling,  glittering  coat  of  silver 
shreds ;  strewed  with  bright  Christmas  flowers ;  every  branch 
the  lurking  place  of  a  real,  visible  little  fairy,  and  surpassing 
everything  else  a  red-coated  Santa  Claus  driving  a  four-  six- 
or  eight-paired  team  of  tiny  glass  reindeer  up  the  sparkling 
pathway  which  led  from  branch  to  branch! 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


45 


Mrs.  Staples  did  not  walk  into  stores  and  buy  ornaments 
for  these  wonderful  trees,  as  we  do  nowadays.  She  made  the 
flowers  and  the  fairies  and  the  bright  colored  ornaments  with 
her  own  hands.  The  glittering  covering  which  made  the  tree 
a  bit  of  fairyland  she  cleverly  procured  at  some  tin  factory; 
it  was  like  what  is  called  silver  rain  that  we  now  put  on  our 
Christmas  trees.  Mrs.  Staples  kept  her  tree  in  mind  all  the 
year  and  was  always  making  something  new  for  it. 

Her  marvelously  skillful  fingers  painted  autumn  leaves  and 
flowers  that  were  greatly  prized  among  us,  done  in  a  minute 
and  detailed  fashion,  just  one  flat  spray  or  one  flower.  She 
did  "spatter-work",  too,  and  there  is  extant  a  certain  piece  of 
solferino-colored  ribbon,  fringed  at  the  ends  and  used  as  a 
bookmark  in  a  book  too  precious  to  be  used  "hard",  which  has 
the  facsimile  of  a  tiny  fern  outlined  and  surrounded  by  minute 
spatters  of  black  India  ink,  made  by  drawing  an  ink-dipped 
toothbrush  across  a  finetooth  comb,  the  bit  of  fern  being  first 
pinned  securely  on  the  ribbon,  a  method  of  artistic  expression 
which  is  now  quite  obsolete. 

Mrs.  Staples'  father  was,  I  think,  a  native  of  Ireland,  who 
came  to  this  country  and  settled  up  "The  River"  at  Saugerties, 
where  he  had  a  mill  or  a  mine.  At  any  rate,  there  was  a  big 
family  of  hearty  boys  and  girls  and,  what  was  unusual  in  those 
days,  there  was  but  little  difference  in  their  upbringing  both 
mentally  and  physically.  They  had  a  tutor,  as  there  was  no 
school,  and  boys  and  girls  studied  the  same  things,  an  almost 
unheard-of  thing  a  century  ago.  It  was  the  old  classical  sys- 
tem of  education.  Mrs.  Staples  knew  every  rule  of  Latin 
grammar  and  syntax,  every  conjugation  and  declension,  regu- 
lar and  irregular,  and  the  use  of  every  trifling  little  adverb  and 
conjunction.  She  read  and  spoke  French  like  a  native,  and  she 
believed  devoutly  in  Peter  Parley's  History.  Many  of  us  "went 
to  school"  to  Mrs.  Staples.  It  was  not  like  any  other  school : 
each  child  went  for  an  hour  a  day  and  read  and  recited  the  les- 
sons learned  at  home,  sitting  in  front  of  the  open  fire,  the  win- 
ter sun  pouring  in  the  big  south  window;  Mrs.  Staples  sewing 
at  the  other  side  of  the  table.  She  was  very  nearsighted  and 
held  her  sewing  close  to  her  face ;  so  close  that  sometimes  the 
needle  would  prick  her  nose.  One  imaginative  boy  always 
maintained  that  he  saw  it  sticking  there  while  he  helped  her 
search  the  table  and  her  lap  for  the  missing  needle.  It  was  not 
the  kind  of  training  and  the  kind  of  school  the  children  get 


46 


NORTH  SHORE 


nowadays,  but  we  got  some  things  out  of  it  which  the  modern 
child  misses  altogether. 

A  narrow  lane  ran  north  from  Delafield  Place  between  Mrs. 
Staples'  vegetable  garden  and  barn,  to  her  back  door  and  to 
lessons.  The  barn  held  an  important  place  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, for  here  it  was  that  the  Richmond  County  Dramatic 
Association  held  forth.  Mrs.  Staples  coached  them,  and  an 
admirable  coach  she  was,  and  for  long  years  did  she  do  it  for 
the  private  theatricals  on  our  side  of  the  Island. 

The  members  of  the  R.  C.  Dramatic  Association  were  an 
ambitious  lot.  They  began  with  the  delicious,  yellow-covered 
little  plays,  like  "Box  and  Cox",  and  "Poor  Pillicoddy",  but 
before  long  were  playing  "Hamlet"  and  "The  Rivals".  Louis 
Gratacap,  at  fourteen,  was  so  good  a  Hamlet  that  it  was  said 
he  copied  from  Edwin  Booth,  while  others  said  that  Booth  aped 
him!  So  successful  was  the  performance  considered  to  be,  that 
the  George  Cabot  Wards  asked  Mrs.  Staples  and  the  children 
to  repeat  the  performance  in  the  parlor  in  their  New  York 
house,  for  the  benefit  of  the  Sanitary  Commission.  They  took 
in  quite  a  harvest,  but  the  audience  did  not  enjoy  it  as  did  the 
Staten  Island  neighbors,  who  saw  Louis  through  the  insane 
Hamlet ;  saw  through  Horatio  the  little,  vivacious,  red-headed 
girl  neighbor;  and  little,  quiet  Helen  singing  Ophelia's  "Sweet 
Willow" ! 

Mrs.  Staples  was  an  intimate  friend  of  Mrs.  Shaw,  an  inti- 
mate friend  of  Mrs.  Delafield,  and  of  the  Gays,  and  the  John- 
sons; but  she  was  not  of  the  reformer  type.  Once,  however, 
she  went,  probably  from  curiosity  more  than  conviction,  with 
Mrs.  Gay  to  an  anti-slavery  meeting  in  New  York.  Sometimes 
these  meetings  were  tame  and  peaceable,  sometimes  they  were 
not ;  and  this  occasion  proved  to  be  the  afternon  when  Rynders 
made  his  infamous  assault  on  the  hall.  Mrs.  Staples,  not  hav- 
ing the  courage  of  conviction,  and  not  being  used  to  such 
riotous  proceedings,  was  really  quite  scared  and,  looking  wildly 
about  her,  exclaimed  to  a  benevolent-looking  gentleman  near- 
by: "I  must  get  out.  Is  there  no  way  for  me  to  get  out?" 
"Yes,  madam,"  he  replied  calmly.  "Certainly,  you  can  get  out, 
if  you  will  allow  yourself  to  be  passed  over  the  heads  of  the 
people." 

Mary  Otis  (Gay)  Willcox. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


47 


Mrs.  Mose  and  Her  Daughters 

In  the  early  sixties  there  lived  in  the  house  on  Livingston 
Place  next  to  the  stone  house,  an  English  lady  and  her  two 
daughters,  Mrs.  Mose,  Miss  Lavinia  and  Miss  Miriam.  Mrs. 
Mose  was  the  widow  of  an  English  clergyman.  How  they 
got  to  America  and  why,  is  lost  in  the  past. 

They  kept  a  select  school  for  young  ladies,  both  boarding 
and  day.  Mrs.  Mose  was  a  little  lady  of  the  early  Victorian 
era,  with  side  curls  and  gracious,  punctilious  manners.  One 
of  the  daughters  was  more  modern  and  businesslike  in  her 
dealings  with  life.  The  other  was  of  the  clinging-vine  type  so 
common  to  the  time,  but  which  was  which  I  never  could  quite 
remember,  being  too  young  at  the  time  to  differentiate  the 
types.  They  taught  the  girls  in  the  school  and  some  favored 
very  small  boys.  I  fancy  they  gave  them  about  as  good  an 
education  as  the  girl  of  the  day  got  anywhere.  I  know  they 
taught  them  to  paint  and  to  sew  in  the  good  old-fashioned  way. 
Mrs.  Mose  conducted  religious  services  every  morning,  some- 
times at  length.  The  main  schoolroom  was  the  big  room  on 
the  ground  floor  on  the  south  side  of  the  house.  The  cows  of 
the  neighborhood  used  to  stray  in  search  of  pasturage  up  and 
down  our  lanes,  and  if  any  gate  was  left  open  the  cattle  would 
wander  in,  and  when  Mrs.  Mose  seemed  unduly  long  in  her 
supplications  to  her  Heavenly  Father,  it  was  a  very  easy  mat- 
ter for  .a  clever  girl  to  sight  a  stray  cow,  or  think  she  did,  and 
cry  out,  "Mrs.  Mose,  there's  a  cow  in  the  garden,"  and  down 
would  go  the  Bible  and  spectacles  with  a  crash  to  the  floor, 
and  the  head  mistress,  preceded  and  followed  by  Miss  Miriam, 
Miss  Lavinia  and  the  entire  school,  would  rush  out  the  big 
door  to  chase  the  intruder  from  her  precious  flowers.  Miss 
Betsy  Trotwood  and  the  donkeys  gave  no  more  delicious  thrill 
to  little  David  than  these  sallies  of  the  entire  Mose  estab- 
lishment gave  to  the  school  girls. 

The  front  of  the  house  was  to  the  north  with  high  Grecian 
pillars  supporting  a  heavy  overhang,  and  a  little  lane  ran  be- 
tween Mrs.  Staples'  and  Mrs.  Bard's  places,  down  to  the  Shore 
Road. 

They  had  merry  times  at  that  school,  and  many  were  the 
school-girl  tales  which  were  told  the  admiring  younger  gen- 
eration of  midnight  suppers  and  pillow  fights  and  such  harm- 
less escapades  carried  on  without  disturbing  the  sedate  prin- 


48 


NORTH  SHORE 


cipals  of  the  school.  One  of  the  daughters  married  the  elder 
Mr.  Sands,  and  the  other  married  a  Mr.  Gardner.  Mrs.  Mose, 
in  due  time,  died,  and  the  only  memorial  of  her  on  the  Island 
are  the  blue  funkias  in  my  garden,  of  which  she  gave  the 
roots  to  my  mother  more  than  sixty  years  ago. 

Mary  Otis  (Gay)  Willcox. 

Francis  Parkman 

Francis  Parkman,  the  historian,  resided  for  a  short  time  in 
a  house,  now  gone,  which  stood  on  the  Bonner  property  on 
Bard  Avenue.  He  probably  wrote  a  portion  of  the  "Oregon 
Trail"  here.  • 

Charles  Meigs — Catamarans 

It  is  claimed  for  Charles  Meigs,  who  at  first  lived  in  the 
Beckerman  house  on  First  St.,  but  later  removed  to  Davis  Ave- 
nue, that  he  was  the  first  man  on  Staten  Island  to  construct  a 
catamaran,  those  twin  hulled  boats  which  originated  in  the 
southern  seas,  and  that  he  sailed  it  with  considerable  success, 
while  Anson  Phelps  Stokes  of  New  Brighton  was  a  close  sec- 
ond. The  latter's  vessel,  however,  had  a  disconcerting  way  of 
taking  a  header — as  the  landlubber  who  told  the  story  put  it — 
and  tossing  its  occupants  into  the  sea  with  a  splash.  In  fact, 
she  appears  to  have  been  more  in  the  nature  of  a  bathing  ma- 
chine than  a  boat. 

An  old  salt  gives  his  recollection  of  this  pleasing  diversion 
as  follows:  "Remember  the  catamarans  well,  and  Nat.  Her- 
reshoff  was  the  first  to  revive  their  use  and  the  first  successful 
designer  of  them,  and  the  ball  and  socket  attachment  of  the 
hulls  to  each  other.  This  feature  was  patented,  and  very  many, 
not  realizing  its  importance,  tried  to  evade  royalties  by  mak- 
ing rigid  attachments,  among  them  the  parties  you  mention. 
The  Stokes  one,  plans  of  which  were  submitted  to  me  by  a 
bidder  on  construction,  I  condemned  and  was  not  mistaken. 
Her  remains  were  for  a  long  time  on  the  beach  in  Mulford's 
Basin,  opposite  the  Commodore  Vanderbilt  home  on  Bay 
Street,  Stapleton.  She  was  quite  a  ship  with  under  deck  cabins 
in  both  hulls,  and  must  have  cost  a  pretty  penny.  Never  heard 
of  her  performing  any  serious  stunts,  simply  wouldn't  go  fast. 
The  under  water  act  was  peculiar  to  all  styles  when  over- 
crowded with  sail.  The  lee  hull  would  take  a  dive  and  fetch 
up  while  the  weather  one  would  somersault  over  it.  Fred 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


49 


Hughes,  of  the  old  Cremorne  Gardens,  New  York  City,  was  the 
great  exploiter  of  catamarans.  He  spent  many  thousands  on 
them,  and  his  craft,  sailing  rings  around  the  Staten  Island  ferry 
boats,  which  were  by  no  means  slow,  was  a  common  sight 
every  favorable  breeze  " 

Santa  Anna 

Santa  Anna,  one  time  President  of  Mexico,  was  smuggled 
to  Staten  Island  in  an  American  vessel,  as  already  recounted, 
following  his  defeat  during  one  of  the  semi-annual  revolutions. 
He  lived  in  this  neighborhood  for  some  months,  the  Govern- 
ment keeping  a  watchful  eye  on  him.  But  certain  adventurous 
gentlemen,  thinking  the  time  ripe  for  a  filibustering  expedition, 
packed  him  in  a  piano  box  in  which  he  was  carted  to  the  Eliza- 
bethport  ferry  and,  still  boxed,  transported  to  Lewes,  Del., 
where  he  took  ship  for  Vera  Cruz.  However,  he  was  shortly 
after  captured  on  the  high  seas,  and  the  only  one  who  really 
profited  by  the  adventure  was  the  man  who  in  the  first  place 
sold  the  piano  box. 

H.  P.  Delafield 

H.  P.  Delafield,  whose  place  on  Bard  and  Davis  Avenues  is 
now  the  home  of  the  Staten  Island  Cricket  Club,  was  a  promi- 
nent business  man.  His  grounds  were  filled  with  beautiful 
orchards  and  flowers. 

His  son,  Richard,  born  in  West  New  Brighton  in  1853,  wn0 
had  considerable  musical  talent  became  acquainted  with  Wer- 
ner, a  well-know  cellist  from  whom  he  took  lessons.  His  love 
of  music  inspired  him  to  organize  a  series  of  Philharmonic  con- 
ceits  for  which  the  best  musical  talent  New  York  could  afford 
was  engaged.  Such  names  as  Mills,  the  famous  pianist,  White, 
said  to  be  the  second  violinist  in  the  world,  Emma  Thursby  and 
others  of  the  same  order  appeared.  Staten  Island,  it  is  said, 
has  never  listened  to  such  music  before  or  since.  These  con- 
certs were  held  in  the  old  West  New  Brighton  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
building,  which  became  the  Police  Station,  and  were  continued 
some  five  seasons,  from  about  1876  on.  Each  musical  season 
was  opened  with  an  address  either  by  George  William  Curtis 
or  Erastus  Brooks. 


50 


NORTH  SHORE 


The  Shaws  and  the  Curtises 


Mr.  and  Mrs.  Francis  George  Shaw  were  the  most  promi- 
nent and  best  beloved  people  in  the  neighborhood  of  Sailors 
Snug  Harbor. 

They  had  come  to  Staten  Island  in  the  late  forties  that  Mrs. 
Shaw  might  be  under  Dr.  Elliott's  skillful  care  and,  finding 
that  the  climate  agreed  with  her,  they  bought  the  property 
which  lies  between  Bard  and  Davis  Avenues,  north  of  Hender- 
son Avenue. 

During  the  family's  sojourn  abroad  the  big  house  was  built 
after  plans  which  were  drawn  for  them  in  Paris  with  an  elabo- 
ration of  detail  quite  foreign  to  us.  It  was  a  noble  house,  with 
fine  big  rooms  and  a  wide  sweeping  staircase,  being  by  far  the 
largest  house  in  the  neighborhood  with  the  exception  of  the 
Henderson  mansion,  across  Bard  Avenue. 

It  offered  a  fitting  setting  for  the  master  and  mistress, 
large-hearted,  benevolent,  generous,  wise,  and  far-sighted  peo- 
ple, who  gave  of  their  ample  means  to  every  good  object.  They 
lived  elegantly  yet  without  ostentation,  and  dispensed  a  cordial 
hospitality  to  neighbors  and  friends.  Many  distinguished  men 
and  women  were  entertained  there,  not  only  fellow  country- 
men, but  foreigners,  who  at  that  time  were  more  rare  than  they 
are  now,  and  usually  were  people  of  some  distinction  in  their 
own  country.  To  these  people  the  Shaws  openad  their  house 
and  entertained  them  with  a  finished  hospitality,  quite  subver- 
sive of  the  English  idea  of  the  day,  that  all  Americans  were 
red-skins  and  lived  in  tepees. 

There  were  four  daughters  and  one  son,  Robert  Gould 
Shaw,  and  these  children  were  brought  up  with  a  distinct  idea 
of  their  duty  to  those  less  fortunate  than  themselves,  and  all  of 
them  have  in  later  life  given  evidence  of  this  training.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Shaw  were  abolitionists  and  their  children  likewise, 
the  son  giving  his  life  for  the  black  man.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Shaw 
helped  the  poor  and  unfortunate,  and  their  daughter,  Mrs.  C.  R. 
Lowell,  was  the  first  exponent  of  the  modern  method  of  char- 
ity, trying  her  plan  on  Staten  Island  before  other  communities 
had  even  heard  of  organized  charity.  When  the  people  of 
Tompkinsville  rebelled  against  the  longer  maintenance  of  the 
Quarantine  Hospital  on  the  Island,  Mr.  Shaw  contributed  a 
goodly  sum  to  help  defray  the  expense  of  the  raid  which  put 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


5i 


an  end  to  the  dangerous  and  offensive  nuisance.  He  was  also 
one  of  the  earliest  supporters  of  the  S.  R.  Smith  Infirmary. 

As  there  were  no  good  schools  on  the  Island  then,  the  son 
was  sent  to  the  Catholic  school  in  Fordham,  this  institution  be- 
ing of  easy  access  to  his  home.  But  the  boy  hated  it  and  he 
ran  away,  appearing  at  home  radiant  but  a  trifle  doubtful. 

Many  parents  of  an  only  adored  son  would  have  condoned 
the  affair  and  tried  some  other  school,  but  it  was  characteristic 
of  the  Shaws  that  they  should  have  faced  what  they  considered 
their  duty,  and  made  the  boy  face  his.  It  was  with  a  firm  coun- 
tenance but  an  aching  heart  the  next  morning  that  Mrs.  Shaw 
took  Bob  back  to  Fordham.  It  was  such  training  as  this  that 
made  him  the  man  and  the  hero  for  which  the  cataclysm  of  the 
Civil  War  called. 

He  was  a  wonderfully  sweet,  lovable  boy,  the  kind  that  dirt, 
either  moral  or  physical,  never  stuck  to.  His  career  at  Harvard 
College  was  uneventful.  When  the  Civil  War  came  he  marched 
with  the  Seventh  Regiment  down  Broadway.  His  further  ca- 
reer belongs  to  the  history  of  the  time,  and  for  long  ages  his 
name  will  be  a  hallowed  one  with  the  colored  race  whose  cause 
he  espoused. 

Miss  Anna  Shaw,  afterward  Mrs.  George  William  Curtis, 
was  the  oldest  daughter  of  the  house.  A  famous  horse-woman 
she  was,  and  it  was  no  uncommon  sight  to  see  her  handle  their 
spirited  horses  with  the  firmness  and  dexterity  of  a  man.  She 
was  a  great  lover  of  animals  and  planned  in  her  girlhood  to  de- 
vote herself  to  the  care  of  the  sick  or  maimed  that  came  across 
her  path.  But  Mr.  Curtis  had  other  ideas  on  the  subject,  and 
they  were  married  before  the  Civil  War  broke  out.  Their  sec- 
ond child  was  born  the  day  Sumter  was  fired  on,  and  Mr.  Curtis 
was  wont  to  say  that  it  was  amazing  how  the  significance  of 
thai  event  paled  before  the  advent  of  that  little  daughter. 

Mrs.  Curtis  was  a  very  fine  looking  woman,  not  perhaps  so 
handsome  as  her  next  sister,  Mrs.  Robert  Minturn.  But  her 
charm  lay  in  the  absolute  frankness  and  sincerity  of  her  char- 
acter and  its  crystal  clearness  and  truth.  These  characteristics 
were  markedly  hers  and  remained  so  to  her  death  in  August, 
1923. 

She  was  a  great  help  to  Mr.  Curtis,  and  only  those  of  us 
who  knew  the  family  well  realized  how  much  she  did  for  him. 
He  talked  difficult  situations  over  with  her,  relying  on  that 
honesty  of  mind  and  vision  to  help  him  see  aright.   She  did  not 


52 


NORTH  SHORE 


care  for  society  and  all  the  distractions  which  it  brings,  and  this 
perhaps  helped  her  to  keep  her  judgment  true  and  unwarped. 

She  also  served  as  Mr.  Curtis'  amanuensis,  and  after  exces- 
sive writing  had  produced  author's  cramp,  so  that  he  rarely 
wrote  with  anything  but  a  stub  of  a  pencil,  she  always  typed 
his  essays  or  articles.  Hers  was  the  first  typewriter  in  our  cir- 
cle. 

Few  people  knew  the  depth  of  tenderness  in  her  nature,  the 
unsparing  devotion  and  self-sacrifice  which  she  lavished  on  her 
little  invalid  daughter  who  died  in  childhood.  She  was  not  a 
demonstrative  woman,  but  one  of  quick  sympathy  and  gener- 
ous impulse,  and  was  the  worthy  successor  of  her  parents  in 
her  care  for  the  poor  and  unfortunate. 

And  who  can  adequately  picture  Mr.  Curtis?  His  sympathy, 
his  interest,  his  kindliness,  his  ever  ready  service  for  his  neigh- 
bors ;  no  task  was  too  small,  none  too  large  for  him  to  under- 
take for  the  comfort  and  happiness  of  his  friends.  No  public 
movement  or  meeting  was  complete  without  him,  no  voice 
could  carry  comfort  to  the  afflicted  as  his  could.  No  voice 
could  call  to  public  service  like  his  clarion  tones.  He  was  at 
the  call  of  the  public  for  the  oration  to  be  delivered  on  every 
great  occasion,  and  after  Wendell  Phillips,  he  was  the  first  ora- 
tor in  the  country.  He  was  the  prime  mover  in  the  Civil  Serv- 
ice Reform  of  the  day,  and  it  was  this  movement  which 
snatched  from  the  party  bosses  that  intolerable  custom  known 
as  party  patronage,  which  extended  to  the  very  lowest  posi- 
tions in  our  public  service. 

Mr.  Curtis  took  a  citizen's  part  in  local  politics,  and  in  the 
days  when  the  primaries  were  not  always  safe  places  for  a 
man  to  be,  he  always  attended  them.  He  led  the  Republican 
party  on  Staten  Island,  in  word  and  deed  and  thought,  as  he  did 
the  best  minds  in  the  National  Party.  After  the  split  over 
Cleveland.  Mr.  Curtis  and  the  "Mugwumps"  took  another  path. 

For  years  Mr.  Curtis  gave  up  his  Sunday  mornings  to  read 
to  a  handful  of  his  neighbors  the  service  in  the  Unitarian 
Church  on  Clinton  Avenue.  It  was  a  liberal  education  to  at- 
tend that  service,  as  the  sermons  were  selected  by  him  from 
those  of  great  preachers  no  matter  of  what  creed.  Drawn  by 
this  wonderful  opportunity  to  hear  the  best  of  the  religious 
thought  of  the  day,  delivered  in  Mr.  Curtis'  inimitable  manner 
and  by  his  musical  voice,  the  Staten  Island  people  of  liberal 
tendencies  filled  the  little  church.    It  was  a  pleasant  informal 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


53 


occasion  after  the  service,  and  everybody  stood  about  and 
talked,  inspired  by  what  they  had  just  heard. 

There  was  also  an  amateur  choir,  and  Gustave  Kissel  played 
the  organ  with  the  same  skill  that  Mr.  Curtis  read  the  service. 

Mr.  Curtis  was  an  eminently  social  person  with  a  keen  eye 
for  details.  He  would  come  home  from  some  of  his  visits  to 
the  rich  and  great,  or  from  big  public  dinners  and  recount  with 
the  most  charming  pleasure  every  detail  of  the  affair,  his  listen- 
ers spell-bound.  Then  in  an  instant  he  would  turn  to  his 
weighty  discussion  of  the  serious  problems  which  had  been  the 
reason  for  the  visit  or  the  dinner,  handling  the  questions  with 
his  clear,  sure,  upright  mind  and  intelligence,  till  his  listeners 
were  convinced  there  was  only  the  one  way  in  the  world  to  be 
followed — at  least  the  younger  ones  did ! 

He  was  always  most  kind  and  sympathetic  to  young  people, 
and  well  do  I  remember  a  series  of  informal  dances  held  for 
two  winters  in  the  Gay's  parlors  for  the  younger  set,  Mr.  Curtis 
sitting  at  the  big  piano  playing  dance  music  for  our  tripping 
feet. 

And  when  we  visited  his  daughter  at  Ashfield,  nobody  could 
have  been  a  more  charming  host,  drawing  us  out  in  conversa- 
tion, eliciting  our  fresh,  enthusiastic,  half-baked  opinions.  He 
always  spoke  to  us  collectively  and  jocosely  as  "A  Young  Per- 
son," and  some  of  those  opinions  can  be  found  in  the  Easy 
Chair  of  the  day,  as  advanced  by  "A  Young  Person." 

Mr.  Curtis'  last  appearance  in  public  was  at  the  formal 
opening  of  a  local  fire-house  where  he  delivered  the  speech  of 
the  day,  with  the  same  grace  of  diction  and  of  gesture  which 
always  characterized  him. 

After  the  last  of  the  Shaw  daughters  married,  Mr.  Shaw 
bought  the  Parker  house,  and  here  he  and  Mrs.  Shaw  and  the 
third  daughter,  Mrs.  Lowell  (widowed  by  the  war),  and  her 
little  girl,  lived  for  years.  In  one  of  the  pasture  lots  beyond  the 
barns  and  the  garden,  was  kept  Red  Berold,  Colonel  Lowell's 
warhorse.  He  grew  old  in  time,  but  never  too  old  or  too  lame 
to  fling  up  his  head  and  prance  about  his  pasture  at  the  sound 
of  the  martial  music  of  parade  passing  on  the  Shore  Road. 

Mary  Otis  (Gay)  Willcox. 

Further  Notes  on  George  William  Curtis 

Mr.  Curtis'  home  still  stands  at  Bard  and  Henderson  Ave- 
nues, northwest  corner.    It  was  here,  Mrs.  Curtis  has  stated, 


54 


NORTH  SHORE 


that  "Prue  and  I"  was  written,  as  were  no  doubt  others  of  his 
works. 

It  is  said  the  crooked  character  of  Henderson  Avenue  where 
it  borders  the  Curtis  home  is  due  to  sentiment  not  often  found 
in  those  who  lay  out  roads.  The  fact  that  to  continue  the 
street  in  a  straight  line  would  have  meant  the  destruction  of 
a  great  elm  highly  prized  by  Mr.  Curtis  led  the  road  builders 
to  go  around  it. 

As  an  indication  of  what  the  "Black  Republicans"  weie 
called  on  to  endure  at  the  time  of  the  Civil  War,  a  portion  of  a 
letter  written  by  Mr.  Curtis  on  July  19,  1863,  is  quoted  here: 

"On  Tuesday  evening,  upon  an  intimation  from  a  man  who 
had  heard  the  plot  arranged  in  the  city  to  come  down  and  visit 
me  that  night,  and  find  Horace  Greeley  and  Wendell  Phillips 
'who  were  concealed  in  my  house*,  I  took  the  babies  out  of  bed 
and  departed  to  an  unsuspected  neighbor's.  On  Wednesday  a 
dozen  persons  informed  me  and  Mr.  Shaw  that  our  houses  were 
to  be  burned,  and  as  there  was  no  police  or  military  force  upon 
the  Island,  and  my  only  defensive  weapon  was  a  large  family 
umbrella,  I  carried  Anna  and  the  two  babies  to  James  Sturgis's 
in  Roxbury.  *  *  *  We  have  now  organized  ourselves  in  the 
neighborhood  for  mutual  defense,  and  I  do  not  fear  any  serious 
trouble." 

Robert  B.  Minturn 

Mr.  Minturn,  a  son-in-law  of  F.  G.  Shaw,  whose  spacious 
grounds  extended  from  Bard  to  Davis  Avenue,  was  an  erudite 
Greek  scholar.  If  memory  serves  correctly,  it  was  he  who  was 
instrumental  in  producing  the  Acharnians  of  Aristophanes  in 
the  original  Greek  at  the  old  Academy  of  Music  on  14th  St., 
New  York.  As  one  of  those  present  states,  none  of  us  knew  a 
thing  about  Greek  or  understood  a  word  that  was  said,  but  the 
Academy  was  crowded  with  the  fashion  of  New  York  and  it 
was  considered  a  brilliant  success.  The  Minturns  lived  in  the 
house  which  Mr.  Shaw  had  built. 

General  Francis  C.  Barlow 

General  Barlow  spent  a  portion  of  his  early  days  in  the 
Shaw  family  as  tutor  for  Robert  Gould  Shaw.  When  the  Civil 
War  came  he  joined  the  Northern  army  and  rapidly  rose  in 
rank.   He  was  a  character  who  by  his  own  bravery  inspired  the 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


55 


same  feelings  in  others,  and  his  men  were  always  ready  to  go 
where  he  sent  them,  knowing  he  never  asked  anything  that  he 
would  not  readily  do  himself. 

After  the  war  he  married  a  sister  of  Robert  Shaw  and  set- 
tled down  to  the  practice  of  the  law,  but  being  an  ardent  Re- 
publican he  became  very  active  in  the  ranks  of  that  party  and 
during  one  of  the  early  political  campaigns  was  appointed  a 
"visiting  statesman,"  so-called.  These  visiting  statesmen  were 
sent  out  to  doubtful  states  immediately  after  the  election  to 
prevent  cheating  in  the  counting  of  ballots.  General  Barlow 
was  sent  to  Florida,  but  returned  after  a  short  time  and  re- 
ported that  there  was  as  much  fraud  on  one  side  as  on  the 
other,  and  that  he  would  not  help  his  own  party  under  such 
circumstances.  He  appears  to  have  been  one  of  the  few  hon- 
est men  in  the  outfit. 

The  Willcox  Family 

There  is  a  little  house  on  the  Willowbrook  Road  just 
across  from  the  old  mill  and  the  Christopher  house  where, 
years  ago,  Albert  Oliver  Willcox  brought  his  wife  and  children 
to  live.  They  had  both  been  born  in  New  York  and  had  lived 
there  all  their  lives  to  this  point,  but  they  felt  that  their  grow- 
ing children  must  have  country  air  and  life,  and  freedom  from 
the  conventionalities  of  the  city.  The  Willowbrook  Road  was 
away  out  in  the  country  in  those  days,  a  farming  district,  and 
far  from  any  means  of  conveyance  to  New  York. 

The  education  of  the  children,  therefore,  was  a  problem,  as 
there  were  no  schools  to  speak  of  on  Staten  Island  at  that  time. 
The  three  boys  were  sent  away  to  boarding  school  and  the 
daughter  was  educated  at  home. 

Mr.  Willcox  was  most  absorbed  in  "causes".  He  was  an 
ardent  admirer  of  Mr.  Garrison  and  a  firm  supporter  of  the 
Abolitionists.  He  believed  in  Woman's  Rights  and  was  always 
an  advocate  of  her  political  equality. 

The  oldest  son,  J.  K.  Hamilton,  followed  in  his  father's 
footsteps.  He  was  a  peculiar  man,  although  of  considerable 
ability  and  high  principle,  but  his  mind  and  his  physical  con- 
trol did  not  co-ordinate,  and  he  was  so  peculiar  that  he  was  a 
source  of  amusement  to  those  who  knew  him,  and  rather  a 
detriment  to  any  cause  which  he  might  espouse. 

Albert,  the  second  son,  developed  a  decided  talent  for  busi- 


NORTH  SHORE 


ness,  and  when  he  was  old  enough  and  was  taken  into  his 
father's  office  his  indomitable  energy  soon  put  the  business  on 
an  entirely  different  footing.  David,  the  youngest  son,  had  a 
brilliant  mind ;  was  clever  and  beloved  by  everybody.  He  was 
a  lawyer  and  rose  to  a  position  of  considerable  eminence. 

The  daughter,  Elizabeth,  was  a  most  lovable  girl  and  a  self- 
sacrificing  friend  to  those  in  need  of  help.  Her  home  training 
had  brought  out  this  side  of  her  character  to  a  very  marked 
degree.  An  only  daughter,  with  a  semi-invalid  mother,  three 
stalwart  and  exacting  brothers,  would  be  trained  in  this  par- 
ticular. Everyone  who  knew  Miss  Willcox  realized  her  charm- 
ing personality,  her  quick  wit,  and  her  absolute  unselfishness. 
She  was  well  read  and  a  very  agreeable  companion.  As  a 
young  woman  she  was  something  of  a  belle,  and  because  she 
lived  in  such  a  remote  neighborhood  her  attractions  must  have 
been  of  no  mean  order  to  induce  any  young  man,  however 
ardent,  to  walk  from  the  boat  landing  at  Port  Richmond  all 
the  way  out  to  the  house  at  Willowbrook,  over  a  country  road, 
muddy  in  winter,  dusty  in  summer.  There  are  tales  of  one 
suitor,  frequent  in  his  calls  and  persistent  in  his  attentions,  who 
always  stayed  until  too  late  for  the  last  boat  back  to  New 
York,  and  consequently  had  to  be  put  up  for  the  night.  This 
happened  many  times  until  one  night  the  vigorous  young  Al- 
bert, who  did  not  care  for  the  young  man,  again  found  his  hat 
hanging  in  the  hall,  and  feeling  that  this  losing  of  the  boat  was 
becoming  too  much  of  a  fixed  habit,  seized  a  cane  and,  with  a 

loud  whack  on  the  stair,  cried:    "What!  That  here 

again?  I'll  break  every  bone  in  his  body."  This  tactful  sug- 
gestion was  not  lost  on  the  young  man  in  the  parlor.  He 
caught  the  boat  that  night,  and  never  came  again. 

They  tell  a  story  of  a  neighboring  girl  breaking  through 
the  ice  in  the  little  pond  across  the  street,  and  the  Willcox 
boys  hearing  the  cries,  ran  out  to  help  her.  The  girl  had 
slipped  under  the  ice  before  they  got  there  and  the  boys,  with 
the  help  of  a  neighbor  or  two,  worked  far  into  the  night  drag- 
ging the  pond  for  the  body  of  the  unfortunate  child. 

In  later  years,  and  when  the  boys  had  attained  a  certain 
amount  of  financial  success,  they  moved  down  into  the  stone 
house  between  Bard  and  Davis  Avenues.  This,  however,  was 
only  a  step  toward  reaching  their  final  home  on  Richmond 
Terrace  at  the  corner  of  Lafayette  Avenue.   It  was  a  big  house 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


57 


with  fine,  large,  square  rooms,  exceedingly  appropriate  to  this 
family  of  extra  tall  people. 

Albert  belonged  to  the  Boat  Club  and  used  to  row  on  the 
river  in  his  shell,  and  they  had  a  boathouse  on  the  bank  and 
bathed  in  the  Kills.  Miss  Willcox  kept  house  for  the  family 
and  many  and  delightful  were  the  simple  entertainments  over 
which  she  presided  with  a  charming  hospitality.  There  was 
no  house  in  which  so  many  pleasant  little  dinners  were  given 
and  where  both  old  and  young  were  made  to  feel  so  delightfully 
welcome.  David,  feeling  the  urge  for  civic  betterment  in  the 
neighborhood,  became  President  of  the  Village  of  New 
Brighton,  for  this  was  long  before  we  became  one  of  the 
boroughs  of  Greater  New  York.  He  had  many  interesting  and 
amusing  experiences,  among  which  was  the  tale  of  the  man 
who  complained  that  after  he  had  built  his  house  in  a  certain 
place  he  found  that  a  brook  broke  through  and  ran  across  his 
cellar,  and  he  wanted  redress  from  the  village  government. 
He  summed  up  his  complaint  by  saying:  "It's  a  hell  of  a 
place  to  have  a  brook."  And  David,  with  that  readiness  for 
which  he  was  famous,  replied:  "It's  a  hell  of  a  place  to  build 
a  house."  David  was  the  intellectual  one  of  the  family,  was 
well  read  and  clever,  quick  at  repartee,  and  of  a  brilliant  mind. 
He  was  a  welcome  guest  in  the  best  houses  on  Staten  Island. 

Albert,  spurred  on  by  David's  example  in  efforts  for  civic 
betterment,  organized  a  Village  Improvement  Society  in  New 
Brighton  and  became  its  president.  Everybody  joined  and 
paid  for  the  improvements  which  the  organization  instigated. 
They  sodded  the  borders  of  the  sidewalk  between  Jersey  Street 
and  St.  George  and  planted  honeysuckle  along  the  fences  on 
the  shore  side  of  the  road.  They  urged  people  to  clean  their 
empty  lots  and  straighten  up  the  fences,  and  they  hired  water- 
ing carts  to  water  the  dusty  highways. 

The  late  Mr.  William  G.  Willcox  was  the  son  of  William 
Henry  Willcox,  the  nephew  of  Albert  Oliver  Willcox.  The 
Rev.  William  Henry  Willcox  married  a  New  England  woman, 
Miss  Annie  Goodenow,  and  was  for  twenty-five  years  pastor 
of  the  Congregational  Church  in  Reading,  Mass.,  where 
William  G.  Willcox  was  born.  He  was  educated  in  New 
England.  In  1881  he  came  to  New  York  and  went  into  the 
office  of  his  cousin  Albert. 

Mary  Otis  (Gay)  Willcox. 


58 


NORTH  SHORE 


William  G.  Willcox 

It  is  not  so  much  for  his  business  ability  that  Mr.  Will- 
cox is  known  and  beloved  on  Staten  Island,  as  for  his  interest 
in  all  the  worth-while  things  of  the  community  and  the  liberal- 
ity with  which  he  met  the  needs  of  our  foremost  institutions. 
His  idea,  which  had  been  preached  by  his  father,  was  to  leave 
the  place  which  he  occupied  in  the  world  a  little  better  for 
his  having  lived  there,  and  it  was  to  this  end  that  he  devoted 
his  time  and  money  and  thought.  He  was  for  several  years 
President  of  the  Staten  Island  Hospital,  to  which  he  contrib- 
uted largely,  helping  to  make  it  an  institution  adequate  at  the 
time  to  the  demands  of  our  growing  community.  Also,  he  was 
President  of  the  Board  of  Directors  of  the  Staten  Island  Acad- 
emy, because  he  felt  that  one  of  the  greatest  demands  in  a 
neighborhood  like  that  of  Staten  Island  was  a  good  private 
school  where  the  boys  and  girls  of  the  community  could  be 
properly  and  adequately  fitted  for  college  or  for  life.  To  this 
institution  he  gave  much  time  and  thought  and  was  largely 
instrumental  in  effecting  the  building  of  the  wing  which  holds 
the  Curtis  Lyceum  and  the  Gymnasium. 

When,  in  1909,  the  campaign  to  raise  money  for  the  im- 
provement of  the  Staten  Island  Infirmary  came  to  a  successful 
end,  Mr.  Willcox  was  impressed  by  the  fact  that  this  was  the 
first  movement  on  Staten  Island  which  had  embraced  all  the 
different  parts  of  the  Island.  It  was  the  first  time  that  all  local 
differences  and  rivalries  were  laid  aside  in  the  little  towns  and 
neighborhoods,  and  that  everybody  had  worked  with  harmony 
and  good  will  for  a  common  cause.  It  was  a  condition  which 
was  too  important  to  the  welfare  of  the  Island  to  be  lost,  and 
Mr.  Willcox  therefore  organized  and  financed  the  Staten  Island 
Civic  League,  with  members  from  all  parts  of  the  Island.  The 
Civic  League  was  intended  to  make  the  Island  a  better  and 
more  beautiful  place  to  live  in,  to  harmonize  the  different  ele- 
ments in  our  community  and  so  make  it  more  homogeneous. 

He  was  also  interested  in  the  Staten  Island  Institute  of  Arts 
and  Sciences,  and  gave  liberally  toward  the  erection  of  the 
present  building,  feeling  that  such  an  institution  was  of  im- 
mense practical  value  to  the  young  people  who  were  growing 
up  in  our  midst.  The  philanthropic  work  which  he  undertook 
was  as  Treasurer  of  the  Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


59 


to  Children,  Mr.  Curtis  being  then  the  Chairman.  He  held 
that  position  until  he  died,  a  period  of  over  thirty  years. 

Many  other  Staten  Island  institutions  have  cause  to  remem- 
ber his  friendly  interest  in  anything  that  made  for  the  welfare 
of  the  community.  He  was  President  of  the  Board  of  Educa- 
tion of  Greater  New  York  under  Mayor  Mitchel,  and  won  the 
respect  and  affection  of  the  teachers  of  the  great  city  by  the 
wisdom  of  his  decisions  and  the  impartial  justice  with  which  he 
administered  his  trust.  The  present  form  of  the  Teachers' 
Pension  Bill  was  largely  of  his  drawing  up,  and  it  was  ar- 
ranged on  strictly  business  principles,  by  which  the  city  of  New 
York  will  be  enabled  to  meet  its  obligations  so  that  teachers 
who  have  given  the  best  that  was  in  their  lives  to  the  children 
of  the  city  shall  not  in  their  old  age  suffer  privation  and  want. 

He  early  foresaw  the  overcrowding  of  the  public  schools 
which  has  since  taken  place,  and  in  order  to  prevent  the  part- 
time  system  which  has  since  been  inaugurated  he  became  the 
advocate  of  the  duplicate  school  system  which  had  been  first 
used  in  Gary,  Indiana,  and  by  which  every  facility  and  accom- 
modation so  generously  provided  for  the  children  of  the  greater 
city  could  be  used  all  the  time,  instead  of  most  of  them  part 
of  the  time,  as  was  then  the  case.  If  this  system  had  been 
adopted  it  would  have  given  the  Board  of  Education  and  the 
Board  of  Estimate  time  to  plan  and  build  new  and  adequate 
schoolhouses,  and  would  have  prevented  the  fearful  over- 
crowding which  threatens  to  swamp  our  public  school  system. 

In  1907  Mr.  Willcox  was  asked  to  come  on  the  Board  of 
Tuskegee  Normal  and  Industrial  Institute,  and  on  the  death 
of  the  Hon.  Seth  Low,  he  was  elected  to  take  his  place  as 
Chairman  of  the  Board  of  Trustees,  which  place  he  held  until 
ill  health  made  it  necessary  for  him  to  resign.  This  position, 
perhaps,  involved  more  work  and  more  care  than  most  such 
positions  because,  besides  the  usual  responsibilities  incident  to 
the  work  there  was  the  whole  question  of  industrial  education 
for  the  Negroes  versus  the  purely  intellectual  education  such 
as  the  average  white  child  used  to  get  at  school,  and  there  was 
the  strenuous  factor  of  the  friction  between  the  races,  and  the 
race  prejudice  which  everlastingly  dogs  the  footsteps  of  the 
Negro  and  of  his  friends. 

So  thoroughly  imbued  was  Mr.  Willcox  with  the  idea  that 
industrial  education  is  the  best  way  in  which  to  fit  the  average 
boy  or  girl  of  any  race  for  the  struggle  of  life,  that  he  advocated 


6o 


NORTH  SHORE 


that  a  fuller  and  more  complete  industrial  training  should  be 
put  into  our  public  schools. 

During  the  World  War  he  gave  his  time  and  strength  and 
money  unstintingly  to  patriotic  work.  He  was  most  active  as 
Chairman  of  many  of  the  war  drives  and  innumerable  com- 
mittees on  Staten  Island  as  well  as  in  New  York,  putting  into 
them  the  experience  and  knowledge  which  he  had  acquired  in 
his  active  business  life. 

Wide  as  were  his  philanthropic  and  civic  activities,  the 
memory  of  him  which  will  linger  longest  among  his  friends  is 
of  the  intelligent  sympathy  and  wise  counsel  which  he  gave 
without  stint  to  countless  perplexed  and  disheartened  men  and 
women.  No  worthy  person  ever  approached  him  that  they 
were  not  consoled  and  assisted.  So  modest  was  his  personality, 
so  widespread  and  diverse  his  efforts,  that  there  are  few  even 
of  his  intimate  friends  who  realize  the  scope  of  his  life.  Be- 
cause of  his  splendid  personality,  his  clearness  of  vision,  his 
absolute  altruism  and  fine  sense  of  right  and  justice,  he  held  a 
unique  position  of  deep  affection  and  respect  with  all  who 
knew  him. 

The  following  is  a  partial  list  of  Mr.  Willcox's  educational, 
social,  philanthropic  and  business  interests : 

President,  Albert  Willcox  &  Co. ;  President,  Willcox,  Peck 
&  Hughes;  Vice-President,  Meinel  &  Wemple;  Member,  Will- 
cox, Peck,  Brown  &  Crosby;  Director,  Battery  Park  Bank  & 
Assurance  Co.  of  America ;  Chairman,  Board  of  Trustees,  Tus- 
kegee  Normal  &  Industrial  Institute;  Down  Town  Associa- 
tion; City  Club;  India  House;  Staten  Island  Club;  Staten 
Island  Academy ;  Staten  Island  Hospital ;  Society  for  the  Pre- 
vention of  Cruelty  to  Children;  Staten  Island  Civic  League; 
Staten  Island  Arts  and  Sciences;  Metropolitan  Museum  Arts 
and  Sciences;  Chamber  of  Commerce  of  New  York;  American 
Museum  of  Natural  History;  Merchants'  Association  of  New 
York;  Real  Estate  Board  of  New  York;  Citizens'  Union, 
Academy  of  Political  Science,  New  York;  Botanical  Garden; 
National  Economic  League;  Bowling  Green  Neighborhood 
Association ;  American  Scenic  and  Historical  Preservation  So- 
ciety; Horticultural  Society;  New  York  Tax  Reform  Asso- 
ciation. } 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


61 


St.  Mary's  P.  E.  Church 

As  before  stated,  this  church  had  its  small  beginning  near 
the  shore,  on  Bard  Avenue;  this  in  1849.  In  1853,  Mr.  Bard 
gave  the  site  at  Davis  and  Castleton  Avenues,  and  the  present 
building  was  erected  in  that  year. 

The  rector  who  officiated  before  the  Civil  War  was  an  ex- 
traordinarily popular  man,  and  the  church  became  an  assem- 
bling place  for  people  from  all  over  the  Island.  The  long  lines 
of  carriages  which  awaited  the  worshipers  are  recalled  as  a 
remarkable  sight.  The  rector  who  followed  and  held  sway 
during  the  war  was  a  strong  Southern  sympathizer,  and  was 
as  effective  in  emptying  the  church  as  his  predecessor  had  been 
in  filling  it. 

St.  Vincent's  Hospital 

The  first  building  on  this  site  was  erected  by  one  McCurdy. 
He  sold  to  Charles  Taber,  one  of  New  York's  well  known 
business  men,  who  tore  down  the  McCurdy  house  and  builded 
a  greater.  His  dwelling  is  now  the  main  part  of  St.  Vincent's 
Hospital.  Mr.  Taber  sold  to  W.  T.  Garner  who  was  Commo- 
dore of  the  New  York  Yacht  Club.  Mr.  Garner  kept  his  yacht, 
the  Mohawk,  anchored  off  Stapleton  Basin,  using  it  largely  for 
excursions  about  the  nearby  waters. 

One  day,  in  July,  1876,  a  party  was  made  up  in  honor  of 
the  lady  to  whom  Mrs.  Garner's  brother  was  engaged.  After 
the  company  had  come  on  board  and  while  the  Mohawk  was 
still  at  anchor  lying  off  Tompkinsville  a  sudden  squall  struck 
the  schooner  and  threw  her  on  her  beam  ends.  The  ladies  in 
the  cabin  were  caught  under  the  heavy  furniture  and  before  the 
men  who  rushed  to  their  rescue  could  release  them  the  vessel 
filled  and  went  down,  all  being  drowned.  The  bodies  were  re- 
covered and  the  shock  of  the  accident  and  the  sight,  as  they 
were  carried  up  Bard  Avenue,  made  a  deep  and  lasting  impres- 
sion. 

This  building  was  selected  by  a  committee  as  the  people's 
gift  to  General  Ulysses  S.  Grant.  This  plan  was,  however, 
nipped  in  the  bud  by  the  hordes  of  mosquitoes  which  were  to 
the  days  of  1876  what  the  Tories  were  to  those  of  1776 — a 
scourge  and  a  pest. 

On  a  gloriously  bright  day  in  June,  the  grand  old  man  was 
brought  down  to  inspect  the  place.   The  day  was  ideal  and  he 


62 


NORTH  SHORE 


expressed  himself  as  delighted  with  the  magnificent  property 
and  beautiful  surroundings,  and  all  that  was  needed  was  the 
approbation  of  Mrs.  Grant.  But  the  time  selected  for  her  visit 
proved  to  be  just  the  reverse.  The  day  was  close,  hot  and 
muggy,  and  the  mosquitoes  swarmed  in  their  millions. 

It  was  not  possible  to  postpone  the  visit.  So  a  pair  of  fast 
horses  whirled  the  lady  across  country,  and  she  was  actually 
in  the  house  before  the  pests  made  an  impression.  Mrs.  Grant 
was  as  pleased  with  the  house  as  had  been  the  General,  and  in 
due  time  suggested  an  inspection  of  the  grounds.  Then  came 
all  manner  of  excuses :  she  "was  too  tired  for  further  exercise 
on  such  a  warm  day ;  inspection  of  the  grounds  and  neighbor- 
ing estates  would  take  an  entire  day  and  had  best  be  left  for 
another  visit",  etc.,  etc.,  etc.  But  she  was  one  who  believed  in 
doing  it  now,  and  the  resulting  trip  through  the  mosquito 
infested  shrubbery  quenched  all  desire  on  her  part  for  a  home 
on  Staten  Island. 

The  building  is  now  a  prominent  Catholic  hospital,  St. 
Vincent's,  the  second  hospital  in  importance  on  Staten  Island. 

Commodore  DeKay 

The  family  of  Commodore  DeKay  whose  home  was  at  the 
southwest  corner  of  Bard  and  Forest  Avenues  was  an  inter- 
esting one.  Just  how  its  head  received  his  title  we  may  never 
know,  but  the  following  story  which  came  from  Dr.  Frank 
Ridgway,  a  one-time  Staten  Islander  who  was  in  the  Civil 
War,  may  be  of  assistance.  A  sailor  man  might  find  it  difficult 
to  swallow  this  yarn,  but  it  should  do  well  enough  for  the  rest 
of  us.  Mr.  Sanderson  Smith,  first  president  of  the  National 
Science  Association  of  Staten  Island,  occupied  this  brick  house 
at  a  later  date. 

DeKay  was  first  mate  on  a  brig  that  traded  along  the  South 
American  coast  and  while  in  the  port  of  Rio  de  Janeiro  the 
Captain  died  and  the  command  devolved  on  the  mate  who  had 
so  much  trouble  with  the  grafting  authorities  before  he  could 
get  his  vessel  away  that  he  vowed  vengeance  on  Brazil.  Some 
years  later  when  the  Argentine  was  in  trouble  with  Brazil, 
DeKay  immediately  went  down  and  offered  his  services,  which 
were  gladly  accepted,  and  he  was  put  in  charge  of  the  navy, 
consisting  of  one  vessel.  In  this  he  started  out  to  hunt  trou- 
ble, and  the  navy  of  Brazil,  which  consisted  of  two  vessels,  pro- 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


63 


ceeded  to  meet  him  half  way.  The  latter  manoeuvred  to  get  on 
either  side  of  the  enemy,  which  DeKay  readily  allowed  them  to 
do,  and  when  in  position  he  in  some  manner,  not  explained, 
created  such  a  smoke,  as  to  entirely  hide  his  ship.  This  smoke 
settled  on  the  water  in  such  great  volume  that  he  was  able  to 
slip  out  unobserved,  while  the  two  vessels  of  the  Brazilian 
navy,  shooting  at  the  unseen  in  the  smoke,  shot  through  the 
smoke  and  hit  only  each  other,  being  compelled  to  retire  in  dis- 
comfiture. DeKay  returned  in  triumph  and  was  promptly 
made  commodore  of  the  Argentine  Navy.  The  story  sounds 
more  as  though  it  had  been  lifted  bodily  from  the  pages  of  Cap- 
tain Marryat  than  as  if  it  were  a  chapter  from  real  life,  but  they 
do  say  that  truth  is  stranger  than  fiction. 

Miss  Morgan 

One  of  those  who  gave  local  color  to  the  region  fifty  years 
ago  was  a  Miss  Morgan,  a  cattle  reporter  on  the  New  York 
Times.  The  lady  wore  abbreviated  skirts  that  were  then  con- 
sidered highly  improper,  with  a  strong  accent  on  the  high,  also 
men's  shoes.  Her  house  was  her  castle.  There  was  no  front 
door,  but  an  opening  that  was  boarded  up  at  sunset,  and  the 
only  way  to  reach  the  second  floor  was  by  means  of  a  ladder, 
which  was  drawn  up  at  night. 

The  decorative  scheme  of  this  house  was  unique.  One  of 
the  rooms  had  a  frieze  of  highly  polished  pigs'  feet,  and  others, 
it  is  said,  carried  decorations  of  an  equally  unusual  character. 
Miss  Morgan  was  an  accomplished  woman,  with  a  charming 
taste  for  literature,  and  with  a  memory  that  enabled  her  to  re- 
peat the  most  beautiful  of  our  English  verse  by  the  hour.  To 
her  circle  of  intimates  she  was  vastly  more  than  an  odd  char- 
acter who  wore  short  skirts  and  men's  shoes.  Miss  Morgan's 
fathei  was  Master  of  Horse  to  Victor  Emmanuel  of  Italy. 

The  Gays 

In  the  year  1848,  Dr.  Elliott  completed  a  little  gabled  and 
battened  cottage  designed  by  Ranleigh,  on  what  was  then 
called  Hayley's  Lane.  This  was  a  strip  of  land  which  had  lain 
on  either  side  of  the  division  fence  of  two  old  Dutch  farms. 
Big  cherry  trees,  dogwood,  catbrier  and  blackberry  bushes  had 
grown  up  along  the  fence  and  were  left  in  the  middle  of  the 
lane  between  the  cart  tracks  which  wound  along  on  each  side. 


64 


NORTH  SHORE 


The  grass  grew  thick  and  rich  in  this  favored  spot,  a  chosen 
pasturage  for  the  cows  of  our  neighbors  from  "Little  Dublin" 
at  the  head  of  this  street,  known  on  the  maps  as  Davis  Avenue. 

Into  this  house  moved  the  Sidney  Howard  Gays,  young  and 
only  two  years  married. 

Mr.  Gay  was  the  editor  of  the  "Anti-Slavery  Standard,"  the 
organ  of  the  New  York  Abolitionists.  He  was  of  New  Eng- 
land birth  and  his  anti-slavery  sentiments  were  the  result  of 
conscientious  conviction. 

Mrs.  Gay  was  a  Philadelphia  Quaker.  Her  people  had  been 
Abolitionists  for  two  generations,  and  had  suffered  the  hard- 
ships and  insults  common  to  the  life  of  the  Abolitionists  of  the 
time. 

It  was  on  coming  into  Philadelphia  from  one  of  his  Anti- 
Slavery  lecturing  tours  in  western  Pennsylvania  and  Ohio, 
made  on  horseback  from  town  to  town,  often  at  the  risk  of  his 
life  from  mob  violence,  that  Mr.  Gay  walked  up  the  steps  of  a 
house  on  Arch  Street  to  whose  hospitality  letters  of  introduc- 
tion recommended  him.  The  door  was  opened  by  the  young 
lady  of  the  house  and  his  fate  was  sealed. 

The  calling  of  a  lecturer  on  an  unpopular  subject  did  not 
seem  to  offer  a  very  desirable  or  substantial  outlook  for  the 
future  to  Daniel  Neall,  the  father  of  the  pretty,  blonde  Quak- 
eress. But  when  Mr.  Gay  was  offered  the  position  of  editor  of 
the  "Anti-Slavery  Standard",  all  objections  were  removed, 
though  it  must  have  been  trying  to  the  father  to  have  his 
daughter  marry  out  of  the  Society.  It  was  the  custom  then  of 
the  Society  of  Friends  to  drop  from  their  meeting  any  mem- 
ber who  married  out  of  the  faith,  but  Elizabeth  Neall,  with  that 
decision  and  firmness  which  characterized  her  throughout  life, 
resigned  from  the  meeting  before  they  had  time  to  drop  her. 

A  child  was  born  to  the  young  couple  a  few  months  after 
their  settling  on  Staten  Island,  and  died  eighteen  months  after- 
wards, a  grief  which  left  an  impress  on  both  father  and  mother 
which  time  never  obliterated. 

The  Gays  worked  together  for  the  Cause,  as  the  "elect"  al- 
ways called  it,  Mrs.  Gay  backing  her  husband's  every  effort  for 
the  emancipation  of  the  slave. 

Gradually  there  grew  a  little  clique  of  people  in  the  neigh- 
borhood on  Staten  Island,  mostly  of  New  England  birth,  main- 
ly of  the  Unitarian  faith,  and  Republicans  and  believers  in  the 
right  of  the  negro  to  be  free. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


65 


This  was  not  so  in  the  neighborhood  nearer  New  Brighton. 
Many  of  these  people  were  "Copperheads",  and  consequently 
Pro-Slavery  Democrats.  They  had  no  respect  for  the  princi- 
ples nor  for  the  politics  of  the  people  who  did  not  agree  with 
them,  and  rarely  lost  an  opportunity  of  showing  it.  One  day 
Mrs.  Gay  was  on  the  boat  with  her  friend,  Mrs.  Robert  Purvis 
of  Philadelphia.  Mrs.  Purvis'  father  was  a  well-to-do  and  re- 
spected merchant  of  Philadelphia,  a  colored  man  and  a  gentle- 
man; for  even  in  those  days  the  combination  was  not  by  any 
means  impossible. 

At  the  forward  end  of  the  boat  there  stood  this  morning  a 
group  of  New  Brighton's  most  distinguished  citizens,  those 
men  who  owned  and  lived  in  those  impressive  Grecian  struc- 
tures, of  which  the  wrecks  still  line  the  Terrace,  a  sad  me- 
mento of  their  days  of  splendor  long  since  departed. 

These  men  were  evidently  discussing  the  two  ladies,  for 
finally  one  of  them,  and  one  who  counted  himself  a  gentleman 
par  excellence,  detached  himself  from  the  group  and  walked 
past  the  ladies.  He  turned  sharply  and,  returning,  stooped  so 
that  he  could  peer  under  Mrs.  Purvis'  bonnet,  one  of  the 
"sugar-scoop"  variety  worn  at  the  time.  Then,  straightening 
himself  and  walking  on  a  step  or  two,  he  called  out  to  his  wait- 
ing companions  :   "By  God !    She  is  a  nigger." 

This,  of  course,  must  be  imputed  to  the  bitterness  which  the 
Anti-Slavery  struggle  brought  into  American  life.  But  it  must 
be  remembered  that  this  man  knew  Mrs.  Gay  perfectly  well 
and  knew  that  she  knew  him. 

How  those  Abolitionists  did  work !  Propaganda  at  all  times 
was  in  order,  lectures,  and  meetings  continually,  and  once  a 
year  a  great  Anti-Slavery  Fair.  For  these  fairs  the  women 
worked  all  the  year,  endeavoring  by  their  skill  and  taste  to 
make  such  attractive  things  that  not  only  would  the  "elect" 
be  tempted  to  buy,  but  that  outsiders  would  come  to  purchase 
things  which  in  those  days  could  be  procured  nowhere  else. 
There  were  many  friends  of  the  cause  in  England,  and  every 
year  these  people  sent  large  boxes  of  English-made  goods, 
which  were  not  ordinarily  on  the  counters  of  our  shops,  and 
they  too  sent  exquisite  dainty  bits  of  fancywork  after  patterns 
new  to  our  women. 

It  was  a  rare  time  for  friendships  of  the  real,  lasting,  worth- 
while kind.  The  Gays  kept  open  house  for  any  friend  of  the 
cause,  and  a  continual  stream  of  .visitors  occupied  the  little 


66 


NORTH  SHORE 


spare  room.  Whittier,  Lowell,  Garrison,  Quincy,  Phillips,  Pur- 
vis, Lucretia  Mott,  Sarah  Pugh,  Mary  Grew,  the  Grimki  sisters, 
and  a  host  of  lesser  lights  were  continually  coming  and  going, 
working  with  the  young  editor  and  with  "Mrs.  Editor",  as  she 
was  affectionately  styled. 

Sometimes  the  house  was  a  station  on  the  underground 
railroad.  A  Southern  lady  traveling  north,  imprudently 
brought  with  her  a  little  slave  girl.  No  sooner  was  this  real- 
ized by  the  officers  of  the  underground  railroad  than  the  child 
disappeared  from  the  hotel.  She  was  brought  to  Staten  Island 
and  deposited  at  the  Gays.  No  Topsy  could  have  been  wilder 
or  more  untamed ;  with  no  idea  of  manners  or  truth ;  as  un- 
broken as  a  colt,  and  as  untrained  in  all  the  particulars  of  civi- 
lization. It  was  a  strain  on  the  principles  of  the  good  hostess, 
and  a  real  test  for  her  belief  in  the  brotherhood  of  man,  but 
her  own  children  were  being  exposed  to  an  influence  never  be- 
fore felt  in  their  very  young  lives,  and  Topsy  was  moved  on  to 
a  "station"  where  her  associates  were  of  a  less  tender  age. 

One  day  Mrs.  Gay  stopped  in  at  the  Anti-Slavery  office,  on 
her  way  home  from  a  day's  shopping  in  New  York.  Mr.  Gay 
was  alone  in  his  office  and,  taking  his  pipe  from  his  lips, 
pointed,  in  a  way  he  had,  with  the  stem  at  a  long,  deal  table 
against  the  wall.  This  table  was  covered  by  a  green  felt 
tablecloth  which  reached  to  the  floor.  "Look  under  it,"  he  said. 
Mrs.  Gay  lifted  a  corner  of  the  cloth  and  there,  crouching  on  the 
floor,  were  three  people :  a  negro  girl  and  two  young  negro  men. 
Nearly  forty  years  afterward  there  ensconsed  herself  in  the 
kitchen  of  Mrs.  Gay's  youngest  daughter,  a  nice,  elderly  col- 
ored cook.  The  young  mistress,  following  the  example  of  her 
mother,  began  to  interest  herself  in  the  past  of  the  woman. 
"Yes,"  she  said,  "I  was  born  a  slave,  but  when  we  hearn  dat 
de  master  was  a-gwine  to  sell  my  brudder  an'  me  an'  my  young 
man  to  pay  his  son's  debts  wid,  we  jes'  tuck  out  an'  lef\  We 
traveled  by  de  moonlight  and  hid  in  de  daytimes,  an'  by-an'-by 
we  gits  into  de  han's  ob  de  good  folks.  Dey  moved  us  on  till 
finally  one  day  we  was  took  to  dere  office  an'  we  spent  de  day 
hidden  under  a  long  table,  all  three  of  us." 

"Had  it  a  green  cloth  over  it?"  the  eager  listener  asked. 

"Yes,  ma'am ;  it  had,"  was  the  reply. 

The  Civil  War  brought  to  the  Gays  no  family  grief.  The 
only  boy  was  a  little  chap,  and  Mr.  Gay  was  doing  too  valuable 
a  work  to  make  enlisting  possible.    By  this  time  he  was  man- 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


6? 


aging  editor  of  the  New  York  "Tribune,"  a  responsible  posi- 
tion, because  the  "Tribune"  was  looked  up  to  all  over  the 
country  as  the  mouthpiece  of  earthly  wisdom,  and  what  the 
"Tribune"  said  and  thought  was  the  opinion  of  a  large  pro- 
portion of  our  citizens  in  the  country  districts  and  in  what  was 
then  the  West.  Horace  Greeley  was  the  editor-in-chief  of  the 
"Tribune"  and  the  largest  stockholder  of  the  paper,  and  what 
he  said  was  swallowed  as  gospel  by  an  immense  crowd  of  fol- 
lowers. But  Mr.  Greeley  was  erratic,  even  at  that  time,  and  it 
was  Mr.  Gay's  chief  duty  to  keep  the  editorials  in  the  "Trib- 
une" so  strictly  loyal  and  so  firmly  in  support  of  the  Govern- 
ment that  there  could  be  no  mistake  in  its  attitude  on  the  part 
of  its  readers.  So  keenly  was  this  felt,  that  President  Lincoln 
sent  for  Mr.  Gay  to  come  to  Washington,  that  there  might  be 
a  distinct  understanding  as  to  the  position  of  the  paper. 

Mrs.  Gay  used  to  say  that  if  she  went  up  on  the  boat  on  a 
morning  when  the  editorial  was  written  by  Mr.  Greeley,  she 
dared  not  look  her  neighbors  in  the  face;  but  if  one  of  Mr. 
Gay's  articles  filled  the  columns,  she  was  afraid  of  nobody. 

All  during  the  war  the  neighbors  used  to  meet  and  scrape 
lint  and  roll  bandages  for  the  hospitals  at  the  front,  under  the 
direction  of  the  Sanitary  Commission,  and  in  the  writer's  mind 
there  is  a  dim  recollection  of  work — strenuous  work,  for  a  fair 
for  the  Sanitary  Commission,  and  later  one  for  the  Freedman's 
Bureau. 

From  1869  to  1872,  the  Gays  lived  in  Chicago,  Mr.  Gay  be- 
ing the  editor  of  the  Chicago  "Tribune".  Then  came  the  big 
fire,  and  the  "Tribune"  was  burned  out,  and  could  no  longer 
afford  a  managing  editor.  During  that  winter  both  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Gay  gave  themselves  up  completely  to  relief  work  among 
the  fire  sufferers.  To  them  were  sent  by  friends  from  the  East 
mo-e  than  sixty  packing  cases  of  new  and  used  clothing,  to  be 
distributed  among  the  refugees,  and  so  effectually  was  this 
done  that  the  family  themselves  were  frequently  reduced  to  the 
last  garment  in  their  wardrobe !  Mr.  Gay  worked  as  a  volun- 
teer on  the  Chicago  Relief  Commission,  and  wrote  a  most  in- 
teresting and  comprehensive  report  of  the  winter's  work.  Mrs. 
Gay  was  treasurer  of  a  similar,  but  more  private,  association 
which  dealt  with  people  who  had  been  comfortable  and  who 
were  too  proud  to  stand  in  line  for  relief. 

The  spring  of  1872  saw  the  family  back  in  the  beloved  house 
on  Davis  Avenue,  every  tree  and  blade  of  grass  on  the  place 


68 


NORTH  SHORE 


being  dear  to  them.  The  neighborhood  had  changed  some- 
what. The  old  lane  had  become  a  thing  of  the  past  before 
they  went  away,  but  now  it  was  a  street,  curbed  and  guttered, 
but  still  a  sea  of  mud  in  winter.  Stone  sidewalks  were  laid  on 
both  sides,  and  many  new  houses  had  been  put  up. 

Many  of  the  old  neighbors  had  moved  away,  but  enough 
were  left  to  carry  on  the  old,  intimate  relations. 

The  old  duties  were  gone,  but  new  ones  took  their  places, 
and  whenever  work  was  to  be  done  Mrs.  Gay  was  there.  A 
sudden  emergency  of  sickness  or  death  in  the  neighborhood, 
and  Mrs.  Gay  would  be  called  upon.  Her  response  was  always 
ready,  and  she  can  be  seen  in  the  mind's  eye,  running  down  the 
curving  stairs  of  the  house,  tying  her  bonnet  strings  as  she  ran, 
and  calling  back  her  last  household  directions  to  her  daughters. 

She  was  vice-chairman  of  the  Committee  on  "Able-Bodied 
Paupers",  which  was  Mrs.  Josephine  Shaw  Lowell's  first  local 
attempt  to  deal  with  those  mendicants  who  were  reaping  a 
harvest  at  the  hands  of  a  deceived  people.  She  was  a  member 
of  the  first  Board  of  the  Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty 
to  Children,  and  her  name  stood  on  the  list  till  the  feebleness 
of  old  age  rendered  her  unfit  for  any  work. 

In  1876,  there  was  organized  in  New  York  by  Mr.  Aaron 
M.  Powell,  Mrs.  Abby  Hopper  Gibbons,  and  others,  a  society 
known  as  the  National  Purity  Alliance,  and  of  this  Mrs.  Gay 
was  treasurer.  She  held  this  office  till  she  could  no  longer  sign 
the  checks,  and  her  resignation  was  accepted. 

Mr.  Gay,  on  his  return  from  Chicago,  accepted  the  editor- 
ship of  the  New  York  "Evening  Post,"  which  position  he  held 
for  several  years,  resigning  to  undertake,  in  conjunction  with 
William  Cullen  Bryant,  the  writing  of  a  Popular  History  of 
the  United  States.  This  work  was,  perhaps,  the  first  to  begin 
its  account  with  the  prehistoric  age  of  America,  and  so  great 
was  the  interest  of  the  family  in  shell  heaps  that  its  members 
went  hunting  them  with  Louis  Gratacap  in  the  South  Beach 
region. 

The  same  hospitality  obtained  in  the  house,  both  for  young 
and  old.  The  "spare  room"  was  often  occupied  by  old  friends 
and  by  many  new  ones  from  Chicago.  Sunday  afternoons,  the 
parlor  was  always  full  as  of  old :  Mr.  Curtis  and  Mr.  Minturn, 
the  Templeton-Johnson  family,  the  de  Kays,  the  Kissels,  and 
the  strangers  within  the  gates,  filling  the  center  round  the  open 
fire,  while  the  lesser  lights  hovered  in  the  background. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


69 


It  was  not  deemed  necessary  in  those  days  to  fill  up  one's 
guests  with  weak  tea;  only  the  flow  of  soul  and  wit  was 
considered  essential  to  make  such  afternoons  truly  happy  and 
pleasant. 

By  this  time  there  had  grown  up  the  older  daughter  of  the 
house,  Sarah  Mifflin  Gay,  a  delicate  girl,  but  full  of  wit  and 
humor  and  intelligence,  the  true  daughter  of  her  intellectual 
parents. 

Deprived  by  ill  health  from  exercising  her  very  considerable 
artistic  talent,  she  was  obliged  to  lead  rather  a  secluded  and 
quiet  life,  but  such  was  her  keen  intelligence  and  her  ready 
sympathy  for  all  worth-while  things  that  she  was  admired  and 
loved  by  all  who  came  in  contact  with  her. 

At  this  time  we  had  no  postal  service  on  Staten  Island,  and 
everybody  had  to  send  to  the  post  office  for  their  mail.  The 
West  New  Brighton  office  was  kept  in  Mr.  Burgess'  drugstore, 
on  Richmond  Terrace,  opposite  Mr.  Pine's  new  store,  and  every 
winter  afternoon  Mr.  Curtis  would  stop  for  Mr.  Gay  about  4 
o'clock  and,  accompanied  by  Poozle,  the  Gays'  pet  dog,  the  two 
gentlemen  would  take  their  constitutional,  stopping  at  the  post 
office  on  their  way.  Many  old  residents  of  the  town  can  re- 
member tall  Mr.  Curtis,  short  Mr.  Gay,  and  the  little  grey  dog, 
taking  their  brisk  walk,  the  men  settling  the  affairs  of  the  na- 
tion as  they  went.  Mr.  Curtis'  extreme  geniality  and  his  ever- 
ready  kindness  made  him  a  universal  favorite,  and  the  progress 
of  their  arguments  was  often  interrupted  by  his  friends  and 
well-wishers  who  were  met  on  the  road. 

Mary  Otis  (Gay)  Willcox. 

A  Child's  Recollection  of  the  Draft  Riots 

Having  recently  reread  in  McClure's  Magazine  for  October, 
1895,  Mr.  Gilmore's  story  of  the  Tribune  in  the  Draft  Riots,  it 
has  occurred  to  me,  as  fifty  years  have  just  passed  since  1863, 
that  my  own  recollections  may  be  interesting  as  an  indication 
of  what  many  women  and  children  went  through  at  that  time. 

Although  I  was  a  little  child,  my  memory  of  the  two  or 
three  days  and  nights  of  that  riot  week  is  very  clear  and  begins 
one  evening,  probably  Tuesday,  the  second  day  of  the  rioting, 
with  my  mother  taking  me  out  of  bed  and  explaining,  as  she 
helped  me  dress,  that  we  were  going  to  Mr.  Ward's  house  to 
spend  the  night.    Mr.  Ward's  house  was  next  to  ours  on  the 


70 


NORTH  SHORE 


North  Shore  of  Staten  Island,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  back 
from  the  water  in  a  quiet  neighborhood  of  gentlemen's  country 
places. 

It  was  an  admirable  situation  for  bringing  up  children,  but 
the  houses  were  far  apart  and  it  was  lonesome  for  a  woman 
whose  husband's  duties  as  a  managing  editor  of  a  morning 
newspaper  allowed  him  to  spend  but  one  night  a  week  with 
his  family. 

As  Mr.  Gilmore  has  told  in  his  McClure's  article,  my  father, 
Sydney  Howard  Gay,  was  in  the  Tribune  office  expecting  to  be 
roasted  alive  if  the  rioters  succeeded  in  firing  the  building,  and 
my  mother  was  alone  with  two  children.  My  youngest  sister 
was  a  babe  in  arms,  and  fortunately,  the  oldest  child,  who  was 
old  enough  to  have  understood  the  situation,  was  visiting  our 
relations  in  Philadelphia  and  was  spared  the  terror  which  a 
clever  girl  of  apprehensive  mind  would  have  experienced. 

After  I  had  been  put  to  bed  that  evening  the  servants 
begged  to  be  allowed  to  bring  their  bedding  downstairs  and 
sleep  on  the  floor,  as  they  were  afraid  they  would  not  be  able 
to  escape  from  the  third  story  if  the  house  was  set  on  fire,  and 
my  mother  was  sitting  up  waiting  for  what  might  happen  when 
she  heard  footsteps  on  the  lawn  and  then  on  the  piazza. 

I  imagine  she  demanded  whose  steps  they  were  before  our 
neighbor,  Mr.  George  Cabot  Ward,  who  had  come  through  the 
gate  in  the  fence  which  separated  our  places,  announced 
himself. 

He  had  come  over  to  advise  that  we  all  go  to  his  house  for 
the  night,  as  the  mob  was  thick  on  the  Shore  Road  and  threats 
had  been  made  to  come  up  our  street  and  burn  out  all  the  Black 
Republicans. 

There  were  a  number  of  the  latter  in  our  neighborhood, 
among  them  Mr.  F.  G.  Shaw,  his  son-in-law,  Mr.  George  Wil- 
liam Curtis,  Mr.  Ward  and  my  father,  who  through  their 
loyalty  to  the  Union  or  their  sympathy  for  the  slaves,  had  be- 
come marked  men,  and  in  the  opinion  of  the  rioters  the  time 
had  come  when  their  houses  should  be  sacked  and  burned,  and 
their  families  driven  out. 

We  were  put  to  bed  again  at  Mr.  Ward's  and  slept,  at  least 
the  children  slept  peacefully  till  morning.  My  mother  must 
have  been  very  cool  and  all  the  older  people  very  careful  in 
their  talk,  for  I  do  not  remember  being  frightened  or  of  hearing 
anything  disturbing,  except  as  we  were  going  across  the  lawn 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


7i 


from  our  house  to  Mr.  Ward's  that  evening,  I  heard  one  of  the 
servants  say  to  the  other  in  low,  scared  voice:  "It's  maybe 
under  the  trees  they  are,  now,  watching  us."  But  being  an 
unimaginative  little  boy,  that  did  not  convey  any  fear  to  my 
mind. 

Looking  back  from  this  distance  of  time,  it  seems  strange 
that  our  servants  and  others  in  the  neighborhood,  both  men 
and  women,  should  have  been  so  terrified,  for  they  should  not 
have  expected  harm  to  themselves  from  their  own  people  and 
that  they  fully  understood  that  their  own  friends  were  on  top 
and  had  our  lives  and  property  at  their  disposal,  they  showed 
in  many  ways,  even,  as  my  mother  said,  by  the  swing  of  their 
petticoats,  but  perhaps  because  they  knew  their  friends  better 
than  we  did,  they  were  frightened  almost  into  helplessness. 

The  next  night  Mr.  Ward  came  again  and  took  us  across 
under  the  trees  to  his  house,  but  we  were  not  put  to  bed,  for 
the  scouts  who  were  constantly  going  out  and  coming  back 
again,  reported  the  mob  gathering  in  greater  numbers  and  in 
uglier  mood  on  the  Shore  Road  at  the  foot  of  our  street,  and 
we  could  hear  the  steady  tramp  of  many  feet  on  the  plank  walk. 

The  Shore  Ro^d  ran  from  village  to  village  as  it  does  now, 
following  the  windings  of  the  Kills,  and  had  a  plank  footwalk 
from  New  Brighton  to  Factoryville  and  beyond,  which  being 
raised  slightly  above  the  ground  gave  a  clear  sounding  note 
under  the  footfall  at  all  times,  and  that  night  it  gave  out  a 
steady,  continuous  sound,  almost  a  roar,  unbroken  for  several 
hours.  I  do  not  remember  hearing  any  noises  that  still  night 
except  that  continuous  tramp  of  many  feet,  and  it  may  be  that 
the  voices  of  the  mob  and  all  other  sounds  were  drowned  in 
that  roar  of  tramping. 

On  the  strength  of  these  reports  it  was  decided  by  the  older 
people  that  if  the  mob  started  up  the  street  we  should  go  out 
the  back  gate  and  make  a  run  for  it  across  the  fields  to  the 
home  of  Mr.  Daniel  G.  Bacon,  who  was  a  Democrat,  and  not 
likely  to  be  disturbed  by  the  rioters. 

The  Bacon  family  lived  at  that  time  in  the  Bement  house 
at  the  corner  of  Bement  Avenue  and  the  Shore  Road.  Another 
reason  for  choosing  that  house  for  a  refuge  was  that  Mr.  Bacon 
was  known  as  a  man  who  would  and  could  fight.  Most  of  the 
gentlemen  of  our  neighborhood  were  not  fighting  men  and 
were  not  even  accustomed  to  the  use  of  arms  in  the  way  of 
sport.    The  young  men  were  in  the  army,  and  the  few  left  at 


72 


NORTH  SHORE 


home  were  elderly  men  of  peaceful  habits  who  would  have  had 
little  effect  if  they  had  undertaken  to  defend  a  large  district 
against  overwhelming  numbers.  So,  in  our  situation  at  that 
moment,  there  was  no  course  open  to  us,  women,  children  and 
old  unarmed  men,  but  flight. 

As  the  reports  grew  worse  and  the  mob  was  said  to  be  only 
waiting  for  a  leader  to  start  it  up  the  street,  we  gathered  in  the 
kitchen,  which  was  at  the  end  of  the  house  nearest  the  back 
gate,  ready  to  make  our  run  the  moment  the  word  came  that 
the  mob  had  started. 

That  July  night  of  '63  was  hot,  close  and  threatening  rain, 
and  the  fire  which  had  cooked  the  dinner  had  not  yet  gone  out 
in  the  range,  and  we  women  and  children  were  packed  close 
in  the  hot,  dark  kitchen,  waiting  for  the  order  to  run.  With 
great  presence  of  mind  Mrs.  Ward  had  taken  time  to  gather  up 
her  jewels  and  hide  them  in  the  bosom  of  her  dress,  but  she 
had  also  added  to  her  discomfort  by  wearing  her  two  camel's- 
hair  shawls  over  her  shoulders,  and  stood  waiting  in  the  swel- 
tering heat  with  the  rest  of  us.  My  mother  stood  with  her 
baby  in  her  arms  till,  as  she  said  afterward,  she  thought  she 
could  not  stand  another  moment,  and  then  the  rain  came  down, 
gently  at  first  and  then  harder  and  harder,  and  then  presently 
a  scout,  wet  through,  came  in  and  said  the  mob  was  dispersing. 
This  report  was  confirmed  by  other  wet  persons,  and  we  went 
into  the  cool  parlor  and  sat  down. 

I  don't  think  anyone  went  to  bed  that  night,  not  knowing 
but  the  mob  might  gather  again  and  carry  out  its  threats.  Our 
family  did  not,  I  am  sure,  except  perhaps  the  baby,  and  I  re- 
member very  distinctly  sitting  on  the  parlor  sofa  with  Mrs. 
Ward's  little  daughter,  discussing  our  relatives,  till  after  a 
long  time  daylight  came. 

It  was  said  afterward  that  John  Gannon,  who  kept  a  saloon 
at  the  foot  of  our  street  where  the  mob  gathered,  told  the 
rioters  that  our  houses  were  guarded  by  soldiers  and  that  we 
were  prepared  for  them.  The  story  might  easily  have  been 
true  and  would  account  for  no  leader  being  ready  to  head  the 
attack  and  it  may  have  been  that,  as  well  as  the  rain,  which 
dampened  their  ardor  for  pillage  and  murder. 

If  it  is  true  that  Gannon  frightened  off  the  mob  with  his 
story  of  troops,  it  was  a  kindly,  neighborly  act  for  which  I 
fear  he  never  got  full  credit. 

The  third  night  my  mother  refused  to  leave  her  house  and 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


73 


I  slept  soundly  in  my  own  bed,  but  I  imagine  she  sat  up  and 
heard  every  noise  of  the  night,  through  the  long  hours. 

The  next  morning  mother  went  to  the  village  to  see  Mr. 
Pine.  Mr.  Pine  kept  the  general  store  and  could  furnish  any- 
thing that  anybody  wanted.  He  paid  our  insurance  and  the 
amount  appeared  among  the  groceries  in  the  next  bill.  If  any 
one  wanted  a  kitten  or  a  wet  nurse,  Mr.  Pine  was  appealed  to. 
So  mother  went  to  Mr.  Pine  and  asked  for  an  armed  man  to 
guard  her  house,  and  a  man  with  a  revolver  appeared  that  after- 
noon. He  was  a  pleasant,  middle-aged  man  who  had  been  in 
the  army,  and  the  little  I  remember  of  him  is  that  he  helped 
us  pick  gooseberries  one  afternoon  and  sat  on  the  piazza  with 
his  revolver  for  several  nights. 

My  mother  was  born  a  Quaker,  and  was  therefore  a  non- 
resistant  by  training  and  conviction,  and  averse  to  the  shed- 
ding of  blood  under  any  circumstances,  and  that  she  would 
have  been  willing  to  resort  to  carnal  weapons  for  the  protec- 
tion of  her  home,  shows  how  she  was  moved  and  how  little 
faith  she  had  that  any  argument  but  force  could  prevail  with 
the  savages  who  were  taking  advantage  of  our  time  of 
weakness. 

She  resented  bitterly  the  ingratitude  of  the  people  who  had 
come  to  our  shores  and  accepted  our  hospitality,  who  had  been 
nursed  when  they  were  sick  and  fed,  clothed  and  warmed  by 
us,  but  who  at  the  first  opportunity  had  turned  against  us; 
who  had  not  only  turned  against  us  in  political  disloyalty,  but 
had  made  war  on  us  at  night  by  pillage  and  arson  and  murder. 

Our  helplessness  was  a  mortification  to  her  and  she  ex- 
pressed her  opinion  freely  that  the  gentlemen  of  the  neighbor- 
hood who  had  brains  and  money  should  not  have  allowed 
themselves  to  be  stampeded  by  a  mob  without  making  some 
attempt  at  defense. 

She  found  some  relief  to  her  feelings,  however,  later  in  the 
summer  when  Mr.  G.  W.  Smalley,  then  a  war  correspondent  of 
the  Tribune  and  home  on  a  furlough,  was  invited  to  spend  a 
Sunday  at  our  house.  She  asked  him  to  bring  his  revolver  with 
him,  which  he  taught  her  to  load  and  fire,  and  she  blazed  away 
at  a  tree  and  got  consolation  from  the  noise  and  the  bullet 
holes  in  the  target. 

The  only  organized  attempt  at  defense  which  we  heard  of 
on  Staten  Island  was  at  Port  Richmond,  then  a  small  village 
almost  exclusively  American. 


74 


NORTH  SHORE 


The  neighbors  planted  a  small  cannon  at  the  bridge  where 
the  Shore  Road  crosses  Bodine's  Creek  and  let  it  be  known  that 
no  rioters  would  be  allowed  in  that  village,  and  no  attempt  by 
them  to  get  in  was  reported. 

There  were  several  instances  of  preparedness,  which  we 
heard  of  afterward  with  satisfaction,  among  them  a  Border 
State  family,  near  us,  with  several  young  men  whose  protesta- 
tions of  devotion  to  the  Union  had  not,  however,  taken  them 
into  the  army,  who  armed  themselves  in  their  easily-defended 
stone  house  and  defied  attack.  And  of  Mr.  Templeton  John- 
son, who  had  got  possession  of  some  revolvers  which  he  taught 
his  wife  and  sister-in-law  to  load.  He  proposed,  if  attacked,  to 
stand  out  on  his  front  piazza  and  shoot,  handing  the  empty 
weapons  in  at  the  window  for  the  women  to  reload.  And  that 
they  would  have  reloaded,  and  fought  if  necessary,  no  one  who 
knew  Mrs.  Johnson's  ready  and  unfailing  courage  could  have 
any  doubt. 

My  father,  who  was  shut  up  in  the  Tribune  office  with  the 
responsibility  of  that  concern  on  his  shoulders,  Mr.  Greeley 
having  been  got  out  of  town  by  his  friends,  could  not  get  down 
to  Staten  Island  to  his  family,  and  when  our  dear  old  friend, 
Mr.  Haydock,  as  soon  as  it  was  safe  to  be  in  the  streets,  ap- 
peared at  the  office  to  see  if  he  could  do  anything,  my  father 
asked  him  to  go  to  Staten  Island  and  find  what  situation  we 
were  in. 

There  was  only  one  thing  my  mother  wanted  done,  except 
perhaps  to  have  her  husband  assured  of  our  safety,  and  when 
Paradis,  the  old  French  sailor  who  took  care  of  the  garden  and 
did  the  chores  about  the  place,  had  gone  to  his  dinner,  she  and 
Mr.  Haydock  buried  the  silver  in  a  flower  bed.  There  it 
stayed  till  one  morning  several  weeks  afterward  my  mother 
told  Paradis  to  get  his  spade,  and  started  him  digging.  He 
presently  unearthed  the  package,  and  the  old  fellow's  silver 
earrings  danced,  his  little  sunken  eyes  bulged  and  he  swore 
strange  French  oaths  when  he  found  it  was  not  gardening  but 
treasure  seeking,  he  was  engaged  in. 

To  the  colored  people  of  Staten  Island  those  were  days  and 
nights  of  peril  and  to  many  of  them  tragedy.  Some  of  them 
escaped  across  the  Kills  to  New  Jersey,  some  abandoned  their 
homes  and  hid  in  the  woods,  and  others  were  beaten  or  killed. 
A  confectioner's  store  in  New  Brighton  kept  by  a  respectable 
colored  man  was  attacked  and  gutted.    An  old  woman  who 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


75 


sold  peanuts  and  apples  at  Pier  19,  where  our  ferryboat  landed, 
was  murdered.  As  an  eyewitness  said :  "She  was  kicked  like 
a  football  from  one  end  of  the  pier  to  the  other." 

There  were  many  acts  of  bravery  performed  and  many 
stories  told  of  kindness  and  humanity,  as  for  instance  of  Mrs. 
Louis  T.  Hoyt,  who  discovered  a  colony  of  colored  refugees 
hiding  in  the  woods  at  the  back  of  her  place,  without  shelter 
or  food.  She  took  the  women  and  children  into  the  barn  and, 
fearing  to  trust  her  servants,  fed  and  tended  them  with  her  own 
hands  till  they  could  safely  go  home.  And  of  Mr.  Thorpe  who, 
driving  to  the  boat  one  morning,  met  a  colored  man  pursued 
by  a  mob.  The  man  was  at  his  last  gasp,  and  begged  for  help. 
Mr.  Thorpe  seized  the  reins,  pitched  the  coachman,  whom  he 
dared  not  trust,  into  the  road,  pulled  the  exhausted  man  into 
the  wagon  and  drove  him  to  safety. 

I  think  I  have  read  that  the  worst  of  the  rioting  in  New 
York  was  over  at  the  end  of  the  third  day  when  the  splendid 
work  of  the  police  and  the  return  of  the  militia  who  had  been 
sent  to  check  Lee's  advance  in  the  Gettysburg  campaign  and 
the  arrival  of  some  regulars  had  had  its  effect,  and  after  that 
there  were  only  some  desultory  conflicts  with  bands  of  ma- 
rauders bent  on  pillage  and  destruction.  At  all  events  it  was 
over  by  Wednesday  night  on  Staten  Island,  so  far  as  my 
knowledge  went. 

The  value  of  property  destroyed  in  New  York  and  vicinity 
must  have  been  large,  and  many  innocent  people,  white  and 
colored,  lost  their  lives. 

The  police  records  showed  that  at  least  fifteen  hundred 
rioters  were  killed,  but  how  many  killed  and  wounded  were 
not  reported  will  never  be  known. 

It  was  said  that  many  wounded  men  were  treated  at  drug 
stores  or  at  their  homes,  who,  their  friends  said,  had  been  in- 
jured in  the  battle  of  Gettysburg,  but  who  without  doubt  had 
been  shot  by  the  troops  or  clubbed  by  the  police. 

On  Staten  Island  there  was  a  very  considerable  destruction 
of  property  for  which  the  county  was  eventually  obliged  to  pay. 

The  last  recollection  I  have  of  that  time  is  of  being  taken 
to  town  by  my  mother  a  short  time  after  the  rioting  was  over, 
and  of  being  stopped  at  an  entrance  to  City  Hall  Park,  which 
we  proposed  to  cross  and  which  was  then  surrounded  by  a 
high  iron  fence,  by  a  soldier  coming  to  the  position  of  "charge 
bayonets"  with  the  point  of  his  weapon  almost  touching  my 


76 


NORTH  SHORE 


mother's  breast.  It  seems  absurd  in  these  peaceful  days  to 
think  of  a  soldier  presenting  his  bayonet  at  a  woman,  leading 
a  little  child  by  the  hand,  in  City  Hall  Park,  but  so  he  did,  and 
we  were  obliged  to  go  around  by  Park  Row  to  get  to  the 
Tribune  office  to  see  my  father. 

When  we  got  there  a  kind  gentleman  took  me  over  the 
building  and  showed  me  the  munitions  of  war  which  Mr. 
Gilmore  had  procured  and  brought  from  Governor's  Island 
and  the  Navy  Yard,  and  which  Colonel  Adams  in  organizing 
the  office  for  defense  had  skillfully  disposed  ready  for  use. 
There  were  loaded  muskets  standing  ready  to  hand;  there 
were  long  wooden  troughs  ready  to  be  pushed  out  of  the  win- 
dows, down  which  huge  bomb  shells  would  roll  and  drop 
among  the  rioters ;  and  hand  grenades  which  could  be  thrown 
into  the  crowd. 

They  were  deadly  weapons  fitted  for  the  use  of  skilled  or 
unskilled  hands,  and  some  people,  usually  of  kindly  temper 
and  peaceful  habits,  thought  it  was  almost  a  pity  the  occasion 
for  using  them  had  passed  before  they  were  available. 

Martin  Gay. 

The  Riots  of  '63  on  Staten  Island 

The  riots  of  '63  began  in  New  York  on  a  Monday  night. 
History  calls  them  the  Draft  Riots,  and  states  that  it  was  to 
show  the  opposition  to  the  recently  ordered  "draft"  to  replenish 
the  Union  Army,  that  the  mob  rose.  Other  authorities  say  it 
was  an  attempt  organized  in  the  South  to  demoralize  the  North 
in  its  largest  cities.  The  riot  opened  in  New  York.  The  Mayor 
of  Boston  was  there  that  night,  took  an  early  train  for  home, 
and  made  such  preparations  in  Boston  that  no  rioters  dared 
show  themselves ;  and  the  failure  of  the  scheme  in  New  York 
discouraged  any  attempt  elsewhere. 

The  animosity  of  the  mob  was  directed  especially  against 
the  negro,  and  against  anyone  who  had  befriended  that  race. 
Well-known  Abolitionists  fled  for  their  lives  before  the  mob. 
Their  houses  were  gutted  and  destroyed,  and  their  household 
effects  distributed  as  loot.  Colored  men  were  chased  through 
the  streets  and  beaten  to  death  or  hung  on  the  nearest  lamp 
post.  The  colored  orphan  asylum  was  burned  to  the  ground, 
and  the  children  with  difficulty  rescued. 

The  offices  of  the  New  York  "Tribune"  were  attacked,  be- 
cause of  its  anti-slavery  stand  and  the  fact  that  Horace  Greeley 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


77 


was  an  Abolitionist.  Mr.  Gay,  of  Staten  Island,  was  behind 
barricades,  and  the  staff  were  armed  for  the  fight,  but,  for- 
tunately, word  of  this  preparation  for  defense  got  abroad,  and 
the  rioters  turned  to  other  and  more  defenseless  prey. 

There  was  a  nice,  respectable  old  colored  "apple  woman" 
who  perched  on  the  stringpiece  of  the  dock  at  the  foot  of  Dey 
Street,  where  the  Staten  Island  boats  landed  then.  (She  was 
not  the  womn  who  polished  her  apples  with  a  hairbrush.)  A 
crowd  of  the  rioters,  looking  for  colored  people  on  whom  they 
might  avenge  themselves  for  being  called  upon  to  serve  their 
adopted  country,  found  the  poor,  defenseless  old  soul,  and 
kicked  and  rolled  and  pounded  her  up  and  down  the  length  of 
the  dock  till  what  was  left  was  unrecognizable  and,  mercifully, 
dead.  Nobody  interfered.  There  were  no  police,  and  the  mob 
was  mr.ny. 

Those  passengers  who  saw  this  outrage  were  fully  prepared 
for  further  acts  of  violence  on  Staten  Island.  There  was  a  col- 
ored woman  in  Stapleton  who  kept  a  tin  shop,  and  lived  over 
it  with  her  two  little  babies ;  the  husband  was  a  West  Indian, 
and  away  on  a  voyage.  The  mob  came  and  gutted  the  little 
shop,  destroying  the  contents,  and  that  mother  sat  upstairs, 
listening  to  the  sounds  of  destruction.  She  sat  close  to  the 
door,  armed  with  a  sharp  carving  knife,  resolved  to  protect  her 
sleeping  babies  if  the  rioters  should  come  up.  Happily,  they 
hurried  away  to  further  depredations. 

Perhaps  it  was  this  same  mob  who  chased  a  negro  up  the 
turnpike  just  as  Mr.  Charles  G.  Thorpe,  who  was  spending  the 
summer  on  Grymes  Hill,  drove  down  to  the  boat.  He  heard 
a  clamor  and  saw  a  colored  man  at  the  roadside,  exhausted, 
panting,  looking  at  him  with  imploring  eyes.  Quick  as 
thought,  Mr.  Thorpe  seized  the  reins,  tumbled  his  coachman 
off  the  box,  motioned  the  negro  to  jump  in,  turned,  and  drove 
off  in  the  opposite  direction. 

It  was  Mrs.  Louis  Hoyt,  who  lived  in  the  big  place  at  the 
southeast  corner  of  Bard  and  Castleton  Avenues,  who  hid  a 
dozen  or  so  of  colored  people  in  her  hay  loft.  She  took  food 
out  to  them  herself,  at  night,  because  she  did  not  dare  to  trust 
her  servants  to  do  it. 

Green,  an  ex-butler  of  the  F.  G.  Shaws,  was  our  first  caterer. 
He  had  a  nice  little  shop  in  New  Brighton,  where  ice-cream 
and  fancy  cakes  could  be  ordered  for  parties  and  dinners.  The 


78 


NORTH  SHORE 


mob  went  into  this  colored  man's  shop,  and  did  not  leave  two 
sticks  of  it  together. 

Most  of  the  colored  people  of  the  North  Shore  took  to  the 
woods  for  those  awful  days  and  nights;  there  were  woods  on 
Staten  Island,  then,  and  deep  ones,  fortunately.  The  white 
citizens  of  Port  Richmond  were  resolved  to  have  no  such 
doings  in  their  town.  Somewhere  they  procured  a  small  can- 
non and  planted  it  at  the  entrance  to  the  bridge  over  Bodine's 
Creek,  and  mounted  guard  there  day  and  night.  There  was 
no  trouble  west  of  that  bridge  and  no  colored  people  were 
molested. 

The  little  colony  of  Abolitionists  who  lived  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Sailors  Snug  Harbor  were  in  imminent  danger. 
Many  threats  of  violence  were  reported  to  them,  and  many 
families  left  their  own  homes  at  night  and  sought  safety  with 
neighbors  who  had  arms,  or  who  were  not  so  obnoxious  to  the 
mobocrats.  There  was  a  house  commonly  known  as  the  "Pink 
Jail" — "pink"  on  account  of  its  color;  "jail"  because,  it  being 
one  of  Dr.  Elliott's  productions,  had  but  few  windows,  he  be- 
lieving that  windows  let  in  east  wind  and  illness.  There  were 
no  "germs"  in  those  days ! 

At  that  time  the  Lovegroves  lived  in  the  "Pink  Jail",  a 
father  and  several  sons,  and  they  had  firearms  and  offered 
asylum  to  anybody  who  sought  it.  And  they  were  prepared 
to  fight,  too,  if  the  mob  attacked  them. 

Another  Mr.  Hoyt,  over  on  Elm  Court,  also  had  made 
preparations  and  offered  shelter.  A  veritable  garden  spot  was 
Elm  Court  in  those  days,  filled  with  branching  elms  and  lawns 
and  lovely  gardens.  It  was  a  lane  leading  up  to  the  Hoyts' 
gate,  with  only  two  other  houses  on  it,  and  no  sidewalks,  but 
broad  stretches  of  close  clipped  grass  on  either  side  of  the  nar- 
row roadway.  To  Mr.  Hoyt's  house  many  of  the  neighbors 
went,  or  made  ready  to  go  should  necessity  demand  it. 

Mr.  Lovegrove  of  the  "Pink  Jail"  was  a  jolly  soul,  an  ardent 
Republican  and  admirer  of  Abraham  Lincoln.  Sometimes  his 
conviviality  got  the  better  of  his  discretion,  but  it  only  made 
him  more  jolly  and  more  loyal.  One  day  he  announced  that 
he  had  thought  out  a  new  slogan — "Lincoln  and  Liberty; 
Jackson  and  Justice;   Lovegrove  and  Liquor!" 

After  a  night  of  sleeplessness  and  anxiety,  Mr.  Curtis  took 
Mrs.  Curtis  and  the  two  little  children  on  to  Boston,  whose 
Mayor  showed  such  promptness  and  courage.     Mr.  Shaw 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


79 


armed  his  gardener,  his  coachman,  and  himself,  and  stood  ready 
to  defend  the  house  and  family.  The  Johnsons,  the  Bacons, 
the  Tuckermans  and  the  rest  fled,  or  were  ready  to  fly  to  the 
Hoyts  or  the  Wards  or  the  "Pink  Jail".  Martin  Gay  has  told 
in  another  of  these  papers  how  his  mother  passed  those  awful 
nights. 

Louis  Pope  Gratacap 

I  would  like  to  tell  something  of  the  Gratacap  family,  whose 
name  is  perhaps  now  scarcely  remembered  in  the  place  where 
they  lived  many  years,  and  particularly  of  the  son  Louis,  the 
dear,  brilliant  friend  of  all  the  boys  and  girls  of  the  neigh- 
borhood. 

They  lived  for  many  years  on  the  Shore  Road  in  the  little 
house  standing  close  to  the  road  on  the  Pelton  property,  where 
it  bends  in  around  the  head  of  the  cove  between  Davis  and 
Bement  Avenues. 

Mr.  Gratacap  was  of  French  descent  with  the  vivacity  of 
that  race,  which,  tempered  by  some  generations  of  American 
life,  showed  itself,  more  than  in  any  other  way,  by  an  ever- 
ready  sense  of  humor. 

Mrs.  Gratacap  was  a  lovely,  gentle  woman,  not  much  known 
outside  of  her  modest  house,  which  she  conducted  with  her 
own  hands,  and  appeared  to  outsiders  always  serene,  unhur- 
ried and,  notwithstanding  her  may  cares,  usually  at  leisure. 

Louis  went  to  the  Free  Academy,  now  the  College  of  the 
City  of  New  York,  and  it  seems  to  me  as  if  he  had  always  gone 
there,  though  of  course  there  must  have  been  something  prepa- 
ratory to  it,  going  up  on  an  early  boat  and  coming  back  late  in 
the  afternoon,  so  we  seldom  saw  him  except  on  Saturdays  and 
Sundays. 

Saturday  mornings,  unless  there  was  some  stated  meeting, 
such  as  a  baseball  game,  we  boys  turned  up  at  the  Gratacap 
house.  There  was  no  concerted  action  about  it,  we  just  gravi- 
tated there,  without  prearrangement,  perhaps  without  thought ; 
but  we  all  knew  that  if  we  could  get  Louis,  he  would  think  of 
something  worth  a  boy's  doing. 

Louis  was  always  busy  helping  his  mother  about  the  house 
on  Saturday  morning,  and  could  not  come  out  till  the  work 
was  finished,  but  that  did  not  discourage  us,  and  we  sat  on 
the  back  steps  patiently  waiting  till  the  boy  with  the  quick 


8o 


NORTH  SHORE 


brain,  the  imagination,  the  natural  leadership,  came  out  and 
set  us  going  at  something  new  and  interesting. 

It  might  be  some  centuries'-old  boys'  game,  adapted  to  the 
situation ;  it  might  be  sliding  on  the  little  Pelton  pond,  or  even 
only  brushing  the  snow  off  it;  it  might  be,  on  a  rainy  day, 
lying  comfortably  warm  and  dry  in  the  Pelton  haymow  while 
Louis  told  us  stories.  Whatever  it  was,  we  wholesomely  en- 
joyed ourselves. 

There  were  certain  houses  in  the  neighborhood  where  the 
boys  and  girls  were  frequently  asked  to  Sunday  night  supper, 
and  although  the  Gratacap  household  was  perhaps  less  well 
equipped  for  such  entertainment  than  any  other,  we  were  in- 
vited there  as  often  as  anywhere  else.  We  sat  and  talked  in 
the  dining  room,  which  was  comfortably  heated  by  a  stove,  till 
nearly  supper  time,  when  we  went  into  the  cold  parlor  and 
Louis  read  to  us. 

We  did  not  mind  the  cold,  for  his  reading  was  good  and  his 
selections  happy.  It  occurs  to  me  now  that  the  first  time  my 
attention  was  called  to  the  fact  that  Burns's  poetry  was  worthy 
of  a  boy's  reading  was  through  hearing  him  read  Tarn 
O'Shanter  one  of  those  Sunday  evenings. 

Before  long,  supper  was  ready,  brought  up  from  the  kitchen 
by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gratacap,  dainty,  hot,  appetizing,  and  served 
quickly  and  quietly.  After  supper  we  removed  ourselves  to 
the  parlor  for  a  few  minutes  while  the  table  was  being  cleared, 
and  then  back  to  the  warm  room  for  games  and  talk  till  nearly 
going-home  time,  when  Mr.  Gratacap  produced  a  big  platter 
of  black  walnuts,  already  cracked,  which  came  from  a  tree  near 
the  Pelton  farm  gate,  and  with  laughter  and  talk  we  dug  the 
meat  out  of  their  stony  shells  till  it  was  time  to  say  good-night. 

This  was  the  usual  procedure,  carried  out  by  the  family  with 
a  quiet  dignity,  and  always  so  enjoyable  to  us  that  those  even- 
ings have  stayed  in  my  memory  after  many  more  elaborate 
entertainments  have  vanished. 

About  1870  the  family  circumstances  seemed  to  improve  and 
they  built  a  house  on  Bement  Avenue  where  they  all  lived  out 
their  lives  and  the  survivor,  the  elder  brother  Tom,  left  it  with 
the  greater  part  of  his  estate,  by  will  to  the  Society  for  the 
Relief  of  the  Destitute  Blind  as  a  memorial  to  Louis  Pope 
Gratacap. 

The  time  came  when  we  were  all  growing  up  and  saw  less 
of  the  family  and,  of  course,  in  a  less  familiar  way  than  we  had 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


81 


in  childhood,  but  we  always  wanted  Louis's  help  in  any  of  our 
amusements.  He  was  an  amateur  actor  of  ability,  and  a  play 
without  Louis  in  the  title  role  seemed  an  impossibility.  But 
he  was  always  a  hard-working  student,  and  much  as  he  en- 
joyed people  and  was  enjoyed  by  them,  he  preferred  to  be  left 
alone  with  his  books  to  spending  his  evenings  in  frivolity,  so 
when  he  had  been  cast  for  a  part  in  a  play  and  had  refused  to 
take  it,  we  went  to  his  house  on  rehearsal  nights  and  took  him 
out  with  us.  He  never  knew  his  cues  or  his  lines  at  rehearsals, 
and  was  the  despair  of  the  manager,  but  when  the  night  of 
the  performance  came  his  acting  carried  the  whole  thing 
through  to  success.  The  last  time  I  saw  him  in  anything  of 
that  kind,  we  were  young  men  and  women.  One  of  the  girls 
had  lost  her  pet  dog  and  we  had  charged  the  young  man  to 
whom  she  was  engaged  with  having  done  away  with  it  and 
fixed  a  date  for  his  trial.  No  one,  in  our  opinion,  could  take 
the  part  of  judge  in  such  a  case  as  Louis  could,  and  we  notified 
him  that  he  would  be  wanted.  Of  course  he  refused,  but  we 
brought  him  to  court  on  the  appointed  night  and  sat  him  on  the 
bench. 

He  conducted  the  trial  with  short,  crisp,  witty  rulings  and 
charged  the  jury  in  an  impromptu  review  of  the  evidence,  in- 
terspersed with  unrelated  Latin  quotations,  leaving  the  case 
even  more  ludicrously  muddled  than  the  counsel  and  witnesses 
had  been  able  to  make  it. 

Always  modest,  he  never  sought  high  honors  as  a  student, 
although  within  his  grasp.  He  depreciated  his  own  extraordi- 
nary ability  and  shone  as  a  literary  genius  or  public  speaker 
only  by  effort  or  compulsion. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  the  circumstances  attending  his  en- 
trance as  a  student  in  the  General  Theological  Seminary  of  the 
Protestant  Episcopal  Church.  His  father,  John  L.  Gratacap, 
was  an  ardent  churchman,  Senior  Warden  of  St.  Mary's 
Church,  West  New  Brighton,  for  many  years,  and  at  one  time 
in  the  performance  of  his  duty  closed  the  church  against  a 
faction,  which  sought  to  control  the  church.  He  was  a  resolute, 
fighting  warden,  and  was  sustained  by  the  bishop. 

After  graduating  from  the  Free  Academy  he  studied  for  a 
year  at  the  General  Theological  Seminary,  and  then  took  a 
clerkship  in  the  Park  Bank.  He  was  no  doubt  a  good  clerk 
and  I  know  he  was  nimble  with  figures,  because  I  once  added  a 
column  in  competition  with  him,  to  my  chagrin. 


82 


NORTH  SHORE 


From  the  bank  he  went  to  Columbia  School  of  Mines,  and 
after  graduation  was  always,  at  college  anniversaries,  on  the 
honor  roll  of  clever  after-dinner  speakers.  That  experience, 
perhaps  the  public  speaking  as  well  as  the  scientific  training, 
brought  him  where  he  belonged  among  men  of  science  and  to 
his  field  of  work  in  the  Museum  of  Natural  History.  He  was 
learned  in  many  things,  among  them  illuminating  gas,  on  which 
he  became  an  authority  and,  it  is  said,  saved  the  company 
which  introduced  the  new  water  gas  system  from  disastrous 
failure. 

His  chief  characteristic  was  his  extraordinary  versatility. 
His  knowledge  of  literature,  which  he  improved  on  every  occa- 
sion, led  him  to  write  many  books,  some  religious  and  philo- 
sophical, scientific  treatises,  innumerable  articles  and  a  few 
novels.  Possessed  of  a  wonderful  vocabulary  and  an  imagina- 
tion which  enabled  him  to  soar  to  great  heights,  his  works  were 
not  appreciated  in  his  lifetime  and  may  not  bear  the  test  of 
criticism  as  high  examples  of  literature  worthy  of  comparison 
with  Addison  or  Lamb,  or  Herbert  Spencer.  Some  of  his  writ- 
ings, however,  are  incomparable  in  virility,  in  poetic  beauty  and 
in  flights  of  the  imagination.  His  personality  was  so  fine  and 
so  inspiring  that  all  his  friends  felt  his  power  and  his  influence. 

His  specialty  was  mineralogy,  but  his  versatile  mind  pro- 
duced books  of  worth,  from  romance  through  rocks  to  theology, 
and  he  in  his  modesty  valued  the  one  as  little  as  the  other. 

As  a  conversationalist  he  was  unrivalled,  and  as  a  friend 
true  as  steel.  He  was  essentially  a  man  of  the  people,  intensely 
interested  in  workmen,  in  working  women  and  children,  and 
his  cheerfulness  and  optimism  made  him  universally  beloved; 
he  always  retained  his  dignity  when  he  appeared  to  put  himself 
on  a  level  with  those  in  humbler  walks  of  life.  Somewhat  re- 
served in  the  presence  of  men  of  distinction,  exaggerating  the 
talents  of  others  and  depreciating  his  own  greater  powers,  he 
failed  to  make  himself  felt  in  the  community  by  his  unusual 
diffidence  and  self-abasement. 

It  may  have  been  because  of  that  self-depreciation,  or  it  may 
have  been  because  of  the  lack  of  some  other  characteristic,  that 
he  was  not  as  well  known  and  well  rewarded  as  many  less  valu- 
able men  have  been,  but  it  is  a  pleasure  to  note  that  there  is  a 
purpose  to  erect  a  memorial  to  him  in  the  Mineralogical  Club 
of  New  York,  by  the  people  who,  knowing  him,  valued  and 
loved  him. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


83 


As  a  public  speaker,  he  was  most  interesting  and  instructive. 

His  thoughts  were  sublime,  but  his  expression  was  like  the 
flow  of  a  river,  now  swiftly  plunging  down  the  rapids  and  then 
quietly  winding  through  the  meadows. 

Martin  Gay. 

December,  1924.  Geo.  C.  Lay, 

In  the  Proceedings  of  the  Staten  Island  Ass'n  of  Arts  and  Sciences, 
Vol.  VII,  1918,  may  be  found  a  portrait  of  Mr.  Gratacap  and  a  brief  but 
sympathetic  notice,  which  includes  a  "List  of  Papers  and  Miscellaneous 
Notes  by  Mr.  Gratacap  in  the  Proceedings  of  the  Natural  Science  Ass'n  of 
Staten  Island",  that  in  itself  gives  some  idea  of  the  versatility  of  the  man's 
mind  and  its  scientific  trend. 

The  William  Templeton  Johnsons 

There  still  is  a  big,  square  house  on  lower  Bement  Avenue. 
It  used  to  be  one  of  two,  the  only  two  houses  in  the  stretch  from 
the  Shore  Road  to  Castleton  Avenue.  Mr.  Johnson  built  this 
and  the  family  occupied  it  for  many  years.  The  big  square 
rooms  were  often  the  scene  of  a  charming  hospitality  and  the 
''Johnsons'  Attic"  were  words  to  conjure  with. 

Several  of  Mrs.  Johnson's  family  lived  with  them.  Mrs. 
Winthrop,  her  mother;  two  brothers  and  two  sisters,  either 
made  long  visits  or  resided  there  at  times. 

The  most  distinguished  member  of  the  family  was  Theo- 
dore, a  charming,  cultivated  young  man,  who  contributed 
some  very  well-worth-while  books  to  the  list  of  American  au- 
thors. Perhaps  the  average  modern  reader  does  not  know 
them,  but  to  the  generation  of  the  Civil  War  times  and  that 
immediately  following,  they  were  a  source  of  great  pleasure. 

Young  Winthrop  was  a  member  of  the  7th  Regiment,  and 
marched  down  Broadway  when  the  regiment  started  on  its 
way  south.  His  "The  March  of  the  Seventh"  is  a  most  inter- 
esting account  of  that  event.  Robert  Shaw  marched,  too,  and 
there  is  a  little  note  from  Mr.  Gay  to  his  wife,  saying:  "I  saw 
Theodore  Winthrop  and  Bob  off  today.  The  former  looked 
very  grave.  The  latter  sent  thee  this  (his  boyish  photograph) 
with  his  love." 

Colonel  Winthrop  was  soon  killed  at  Big  Bethel ;  and  later 
Colonel  Shaw  was  killed,  leading  his  colored  regiment  in  a 
perfectly  hopeless  charge  on  Fort  Wagner. 

The  other  son,  William  Winthrop,  filled  an  army  position 


84 


NORTH  SHORE 


in  Washington,  and  rose  to  be  Judge  Advocate  General  before 
his  death,  some  twenty-five  or  thirty  years  later. 

Mr.  William  Templeton  Johnson  was  of  an  old  New  York 
family,  a  big,  slow-moving,  cultivated,  courteous  gentleman. 
Mrs.  Johnson  was  a  complete  contrast,  a  little  woman,  viva- 
cious, quick  of  speech  and  movement,  full  of  fun  and  repartee, 
and  also  was  a  most  cultivated  woman.  She  knew  both  books 
and  music ;  she  sang  and  played  a  little ;  she  wrote  very  pretty 
verse,  knew  French  and  German,  and  was  thoroughly  conver- 
sant with  the  literature  of  both  countries,  as  well  as  of  England. 

Her  flower  garden  was  a  great  joy  to  her  and  to  her  neigh- 
bors, and  many  rare  and  lovely  flowers  found  congenial  sur- 
roundings in  her  various  beds. 

The  house  was  full  of  interesting  things,  both  heirlooms  and 
beautiful  objects  brought  from  abroad.  The  Johnsons  knew 
what  was  rare  and  beautiful  and  cherished  such  things,  and 
the  furnishings  of  the  house  bore  testimony  to  this.  Miss  Win- 
throp  lived  always  with  the  Johnsons,  and  died  there,  the  last 
of  that  generation,  beloved  by  her  nieces  and  great-nieces,  and 
by  all  the  neighbors  who  came  in  contact  with  her. 

What  Mrs.  Johnson  did  for  the  pleasure  of  the  young  peo- 
ple of  the  neighborhood  is  beyond  telling,  but  those  of  us  who 
had  the  privilege  of  being  among  the  fortunate  ones  who  were 
bidden  to  the  festivities  in  the  garden  or  in  the  attic  will  never 
forget  them:  The  children's  parties,  the  dances,  the  garden 
parties,  the  lawn  tennis  parties,  and  especially  the  private  the- 
atricals, and  the  fun  of  the  Saturday  night  rehearsals,  Mrs. 
Johnson  acting  as  coach ;  the  half-hour  round  the  stove  after 
the  "work"  was  over;  the  jolly,  friendly  relations  into  which 
these  young  people  were  thrown,  are  among  the  memories 
never  to  be  forgotten.  Then,  the  night  of  nights,  when  the 
play  came  off!  The  stage,  put  up  at  one  end  of  the  big  room, 
was  small,  and  there  was  but  little  change  of  scenery  and  no 
mechanical  devices ;  the  actors  were  in  their  teens,  and  it  must 
have  been  because  we  had  a  friendly  audience  that  the  perform- 
ance existed.  It  was  an  intense  excitement  to  peek  through  the 
hole  in  the  curtain  and  pick  out  our  friends — one's  own  family 
trying  not  to  appear  anxious  lest  one  should  fail  or  stumble 
over  that  unlucky  phrase  to  which  one  always  gave  the  wrong 
inflection,  thus  making  it  give  the  interpretation  not  meant  by 
the  author.  There  were  all  the  neighbors,  too,  and,  in  the 
midst,  taller  than  most  of  his  neighbors,  was  Mr.  Curtis,  genial 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


BS 


and  pleasant  to  everybody,  our  most  sympathetic  and  discern- 
ing critic.  How  he  always  found  something  pleasant  to  say 
about  the  childish  little  performance! 

Mr.  Johnson  was,  as  I  said,  of  an  old  New  York  family,  and 
his  aunt,  Miss  Templeton,  was  the  last  of  that  family  to  live  in 
the  old  house  on  Washington  Square,  and  to  fall  heir  to  all  the 
family  heirlooms  of  every  sort  which  succeeding  members  of 
the  family  dying,  had  left  behind  them.  In  the  course  of  years 
Miss  Templeton  died  too,  and  Mr.  Johnson  and  his  sister,  Mrs. 
Biddle  of  Philadelphia,  were  her  heirs  and  executors.  Mrs. 
Biddle  was  something  of  an  invalid,  or  was  too  much  occupied 
at  home,  and  Mr.  Johnson,  with  that  easy-going  way  of  his, 
handed  the  job  over  to  his  wife.  Mrs.  Johnson  went  at  it  sys- 
tematically. She  even  moved  up  to  town  and  lived  in  the 
house — four  stories  and  an  attic,  and  then  a  smaller  attic  some- 
where above  that.  The  fine  pictures,  the  handsome  furniture, 
the  priceless  old  china  and  bric-a-brac,  the  four  full  silver 
services  (one  still  wrapped  in  the  papers  as  it  came  from  the 
jewelers),  were  comparatively  easily  accounted  for.  But 
imagine  the  care  it  took  and  the  time  consumed  to  watch  for 
every  little  twist  of  paper,  after  having,  for  curiosity's  sake,  un- 
rolled one  to  find  ten  ten-dollar  bills  in  it;  and  these  little  rolls 
eventually  yielded  thousands  of  dollars.  Seven  gold  watches 
were  found — one  in  the  ragbag,  just  about  to  be  sent  to  the 
ragman.  There  were  beautiful  old-fashioned  clothes,  both  men's 
and  women's;  dresses,  veils,  fans,  vests,  slippers,  bonnets,  em- 
broideries, laces  and  jewels.  It  was  well  that  Mrs.  Johnson 
was  executive ;  it  was  well  that  the  house  on  Bement  Avenue 
was  large,  and  eventually  everything  found  a  resting  place  in 
its  new  surroundings,  and  the  Johnson's  house  henceforth  be- 
came the  most  interesting  one  in  the  neighborhood. 

Mary  Otis  (Gay)  Willcox. 

Edward  Bement 

Edward  Bement  laid  out  Bement  Avenue  through  what  ap- 
pears to  have  been  one  of  the  long  narrow  farms  that  stretched 
back  from  the  water.  As  the  well  known  Boiling  Spring  on 
the  Bement  estate  south  of  Castleton  Avenue  was  formerly 
known  as  the  Kruser  spring,  and  as  Mr.  Bement's  property 
included  the  site  of  the  Kruser  home,  it  may  be  presumed  that 
the  former  included  in  his  property  what  was  originally  the 
Kruser  farm  which  reached  from  the  Cove  south.    The  old 


86 


NORTH  SHORE 


white  stone  story  and  a  half  farm  house  stood  near  the  shore, 
and  the  family  graveyard  lay  east  of  the  house. 

The  Bement  mansion  stood  near  the  site  of  the  old  Abraham 
Rolf  farmhouse  through  the  middle  of  whose  farm  now  runs 
Burger  Avenue. 

Pelton  House 

Charles  E.  Anthon  in  1850  calls  what  we  know  as  the  Pelton 
House  the  DeGroot  house.  Mr.  Alfred  DeGroot  stated  in  1912 
that  this  house  was  probably  built  by  a  DeGroot,  but  that  there 
was  no  certainty  as  to  this.  The  stone  portion  was  erected 
about  1730;  that  portion  which  looks  to  be  frame,  but  which  is 
stone,  covered  with  wood,  about  1776,  and  the  brick  about  1832. 
The  will  of  Johannes  DeGroot,  made  in  1786,  devised  the  prop- 
erty to  Garret  DeGroot;  it  passed  out  of  the  DeGroot  family  in 
1814,  and  ultimately  came  into  the  possession  of  Daniel  Pelton. 

Daniel  Pelton  cared  little  for  dress,  but  was  shrewd  of 
speech  and  exceedingly  energetic.  He  was  a  pronounced  aboli- 
tionist and  so  outspoken  that  it  was  feared  the  Draft  Riot  mob 
would  attack  his  home,  as  threats  had  been  made.  He  posses- 
sed a  wonderful  memory  and  while  a  man  of  few  books  made 
a  choice  of  his  reading  matter  that  showed  an  evident  literary 
turn.  His  reading  was  devoted  almost  exclusively  to  Milton's 
Paradise  Lost  and  Pope's  translation  of  Homer,  which  he  read 
constantly  and  could  quote  from  at  great  length. 

During  the  Revolution  this  house  was  occupied  by  a  De- 
Groot, presumably  Johannes.  At  one  time  Major  Andre,  who 
was  executed  at  Tappan  as  a  spy,  was  billeted  in  this  house. 
Mr.  Alfred  DeGroot's  grandmother  used  to  speak  of  this  inci- 
dent apparently  as  a  personal  recollection.  Andre  was  recalled 
as  a  gentlemanly  and  agreeable  companion.  In  1850  Anthon  re- 
ported a  statement  by  a  Mr.  Disosway  to  the  effect  that  while 
his  mother  was  on  one  occasion  at  the  DeGroot  house,  the 
Asia,  a  British  man  o'  war,  anchored  opposite  and  fired  into  it. 

A  General  Duffie,  son  of  a  French  count  and  an  officer  in 
the  French  army,  was  in  this  country  when  the  Civil  War  broke 
out.  He  volunteered  his  services,  which  were  accepted,  and 
acted  as  drill  master,  being  of  valuable  assistance  in  this  as  well 
as  serving  at  the  front.  He  was  wounded  and  came  to  Staten 
Island  to  recuperate.  He  appears  to  have  taken  up  his  abode 
in  the  Pelton  house  where  he  was  thrown  into  the  society  of 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


87 


Mary  Ann  Pelton,  and  the  usual  happened,  the  situation  being 
materially  helped  by  the  farm  lane  which  was  lined  with  cherry 
trees  and  was  as  secluded  as  a  hopeful  young  woman  could  ask. 

This  "Kruser's  lane",  now  Pelton  Avenue,  was  long  known 
as  "Lovers'  Lane."  It  follows  in  part  what  is  said  to  have  been 
an  Inland  trail  to  the  Cove.  A  brief  romance  between  a  Brit- 
ish officer  and  an  Island  girl,  who  haunted  the  lane  together, 
is  said  to  have  given  the  lane  its  proper  title.  He  finally  left 
the  Island,  and  she  did  the  haunting  alone  thereafter.  Both  the 
name  and  the  atmosphere  clung  to  the  lane  for  many  years. 
Morris  quotes  Captain  Richard  Christopher  as  reminiscing 
over  the  time  when  he  and  Molly  Fountain  "used  to  stroll, 
hand-in-hand,  up  and  down  that  lane."  No  doubt  many  an- 
other romance  was  helped  on  its  way  by  this  shady  bower. 

Kruser  House 

Somewhat  back  and  a  trifle  west  of  the  Pelton  house  for- 
merly stood,  according  to  Alfred  DeGroot,  the  Kruser  house. 
It  is  said  that  the  Eberhard  Faber  house  now  stands  about  on 
its  site,  but  there  seems  to  be  no  certainty  as  to  this.  Morris 
states  that  General  Cortlandt  Skinner,  who  commanded  a  troop 
of  Tories  in  the  interests  of  the  British,  occupied  the  Kruser 
house  as  headquarters  in  1776,  and  that  the  Skinner  and  Kruser 
families,  being  on  intimate  terms,  the  latter  was  not  unduly 
disturbed.  William  IV,  at  that  time  the  youngest  admiral  in  the 
British  Navy,  is  said  to  have  stopped  here.  The  family  burial 
ground  lay  just  east  of  the  house ;  stones  of  1787,  1807  and  1815 
spell  the  name  Cruser  but  earlier  ones  dating  back  to  1760  spell 
it  Kroese.  Garret  Cruser.  the  first  of  the  name  on  Staten  Is- 
land, received  a  grant  of  160  acres  of  land  in  1677,  presumably 
at  this  point.  In  August.  1777,  the  American  troops  under 
General  Sullivan  made  a  raid  on  Staten  Island.  The  small 
body  of  soldiers  under  the  command  of  a  Major  Pearce  en- 
countered a  much  superior  bodv  of  English  troops  at  this  cove 
and  were  compelled  to  retreat,  leaving  behind  them  a  number 
of  prisoners  who  had  been  taken  in  a  redoubt,  which  stood  on 
the  site  of  the  Church  of  the  Ascension,  West  New  Brighton. 

In  the  Staten  Islander  for  December  7,  191c,  Ira  K.  Morris 
writes  that  he  had  seen  a  letter  several  years  before  written  to 
a  carpenter  and  builder  on  Staten  Island  in  which  was  an  or- 
der to  inspect  the  Rose  and  Crown  farmhouse  at  New  Dorp 


88 


NORTH  SHORE 


and  to  erect  at  the  Cove  on  the  North  Shore  a  dwelling  similar 
in  style  of  architecture  and  proportions.  The  letter  was  dated 
July  23,  1722,  and  signed  by  Joseph  Rolph.  Mr.  Morris  states 
that  the  building  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  Krusers  prior  to 
the  Revolution. 

The  present  house  was  erected  by  one  Dean.  It  passed  to 
G.  W.  Campbell  and  from  him  to  the  Staten  Island  Athletic 
Club,  about  1885.  The  athletes  fitted  up  the  dwelling  as  a  club- 
house and  erected  a  boathouse  on  the  shore  of  the  Kill.  The 
old  Kruser  burial  ground  has  been  covereu  over,  but  the  vault 
remained  and  this  was  used  by  the  club  in  its  initiation  of  new 
members,  who  were  lowered  into  its  grisly  depths  for  a  few 
moments  of  quiet  contemplation. 

The  house  is  now  generally  known  as  the  Faber  house. 

During  that  time  when  the  Athletic  Club  occupied  the  Faber 
house,  certain  of  its  more  convivial  members  organized  the 
Cruser  Club.  Judging  from  reports  at  this  late  date,  the  chief 
article  of  its  constitution  appears  to  have  been  the  flowing 
bowl.  There  were  no  midnights  dreary  for  these  athletes,  if 
the  stories  which  have  floated  down  the  years  can  be  depended 
on.  Most  of  these  have  to  do  with  their  methods  of  amusing 
themselves  and  their  earnest  efforts  to  reach  home  in  time  for 
breakfast. 

In  these  stories,  the  instability  of  the  lamp  posts  of  the 
neighborhood,  around  4  a.  m.,  figure  largely. 

There  was  one  performance  that  showed  an  adaptability  to 
circumstances  and  a  certain  originality  that  have  helped  pre- 
serve it  in  some  detail  from  oblivion.  About  once  in  so  often,  at 
the  hour  when  graveyards  yawn,  these  athletes  would  lay  hold 
on  Jimmy  Hickey,  the  waiter,  and  sally  forth  to  that  part  of  the 
grounds  still  inhabited  by  the  Crusers.  Here  Jimmy  would  be 
required  to  pull  away  the  stone  that  covered  the  family  vault 
and  descend  into  its  depths,  and  here  he  remained  until  he 
offered  up  the  "Cruser  Prayer,"  whatever  that  may  have  been. 
They  then  returned  to  the  clubhouse  for  a  further  perusal  of 
the  constitution  and  the  smoothing  down  of  Jimmy's  ruffled 
feathers.  After  that,  the  early  birds  would  lay  a  course  for 
home  that  usually  included  the  lamp  posts  on  both  sides  of  the 
street.  It  is  too  late  now  to  write  up  the  history  of  those 
lamp  posts,  but  there  is  ample  testimony  that  they  were  in 
clined  to  unbend  during  the  small  hours.  They  are  reported 
to  have  had  a  most  tantalizing  way  of  side-stepping  at  the  very 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


89 


moment  when  their  earnest  support  was  most  needed,  or  of 
bumping  off  some  befogged  gentleman  into  an  opposite  direc- 
tion from  that  in  which  his  home  fires  were  burning  and,  as 
these  travelers  were  prone  to  hold  to  a  course,  once  it  was 
laid,  the  return  journey  was  sometimes  delayed  until  the  big, 
round,  red  Mr.  Sun  arose  to  clear  away  the  morning  mists. 
Occasionally,  however,  these  lamp  posts  stood  staunch  and 
true,  and  were  of  material  aid  to  some  puzzled  party  who,  after 
walking  around  the  block  three  times,  seemed  no  nearer  home 
than  when  the  journey  was  started. 

Those  lamp  posts  have  gone  the  way  of  the  milestones  that 
helped  a  still  earlier  generation  toward  its  goal,  and  we  are  glad 
of  the  opportunity  to  preserve  their  memory,  if  ever  so  briefly. 

Factory  ville — Corktown 

That  part  of  West  New  Brighton  immediately  west  Of 
Burgher  Avenue  and  adjoining  Factoryville  was  formerly 
known  as  "Corktown,"  for  a  reason  so  obvious  that  no  expla- 
nation is  necessary. 

Factoryville  appears  to  have  been  owned  and  laid  out  by 
Col.  Nathan  Barrett,  in  1836.  Broadway  runs  through  the 
place.  Presumably  it  was  the  dwelling  place  of  those  who 
worked  in  the  dyeing  and  cleaning  works. 

The  Barrett  factory  buildings  were  at  one  time  known  as 
"The  College  Buildings",  for  the  reason  that  they  were  com- 
pletely covered  with  ivy. 

"A  certain  gentleman  residing  in  Southfield  is  hereby  re- 
quested to  call  at  the  Factoryville  store  and  pay  for  the  Olive 
Cloth  he  purchased,  October  19th ;  otherwise  he  will  hear  more 
from  D.  V.  N.  M.,  Factoryville,  Jan.  6,  1834." 

— Richmond  Co.  Free  Press,  January  18,  1834. 

Barrett  House 

Colonel  Nathan  Barrett's  house  still  stands  on  the  sharp 
bend  in  the  road  beyond  Broadway,  but  a  portion  has  been  used 
as  a  saloon,  and  the  building  with  its  tall  columns  gives  ample 
evidence  that  it  has  descended  from  its  high  estate.  Colonel 
Barrett  was  of  the  old  New  York  Dyeing  &  Printing  estab- 
lishment, the  buildings  of  which  are  immediately  south  of  the 
Barrett  home,  but  following  a  disagreement  among  the  part- 


go 


NORTH  SHORE 


ners,  he  resigned  and  started  the  firm  of  Barrett,  Nephews  & 
Co.  on  Cherry  Lane.  The  latter  firm  finally  purchased  the 
dyeing  and  printing  concern,  and  removed  to  the  older  premises 
on  Broadway.  Major  C.  T.  Barrett  who  was  president  of  the 
dyeing  company  in  1906,  when  he  died,  was  a  landscape  archi- 
tect by  choice.  The  Major  enlisted  in  the  156th  Regiment,  N.  Y. 
Volunteers,  in  1862,  and  served  until  the  end  of  the  war.  He 
was  brevetted  major  for  bravery  in  the  assaults  on  the  Spanish 
Fort  and  Fort  Blakely  in  the  campaign  that  resulted  in  the 
capture  of  Mobile. 

Pine's  Store  and  Lafayette  Morgan 

Pine's  Store  on  the  Terrace  next  beyond  the  old  home  of 
Colonel  Barrett  is  frequently  mentioned  by  those  inclined  to 
reminisce.  It  was  one  of  those  places  where  one  could  get  any- 
thing from  a  potato  to  the  kitchen  Queen  who  was  to  cook  it. 
Lafayette  Morgan,  delivery  man  on  the  eastern  route,  has  also 
called  forth  many  a  pleasant  memory.  He  knew  everybody 
and  was  so  well  liked  that  when,  after  Mr.  Pine's  failure,  he 
went  to  another  grocer,  he  took  his  customers  with  him. 

Lafayette  never  failed  to  make  his  daily  comment  on  the 
weather,  which  formed  a  safe  and  agreeable  topic  of  conversa- 
tion with  his  customers.  He  was  the  errand  man  for  the  neigh- 
borhood, taking  bundles  and  notes  from  one  to  another,  our 
dresses  to  and  from  the  dressmaker,  our  mail  to  and  from  the 
post  office.  A  more  accommodating  and  good-natured  man 
never  existed,  nor  a  more  useful  to  a  country  neighborhood. 

His  was  the  only  sleigh  that  careful  mothers  allowed  their 
children  to  "hitch"  on.  He  conveyed  the  children  of  succeed- 
ing generations  up  and  down  the  streets,  tied  to  the  big  sleigh 
in  winter,  inside  the  covered  wagon  in  summer.  Nothing  ruf- 
fled him  but  once,  when  Frank  Waller  sat  unexpectedly  into  a 
deep  box  full  of  fresh  eggs. 

Fountain  House 

Fountain  House  site,  adjoining  the  Church  of  the  Ascen- 
sion. According  to  Morris,  the  house  was  erected  about  1750 
by  one  Macgregor.  During  the  Revolution  it  was  fired  by  Gen- 
eral Sullivan  during  a  raid  on  Staten  Island,  but  was  saved 
from  destruction  by  the  British.   After  the  war  it  was  enlarged 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


9i 


and  was  known  as  Macgregor's  Inn.  Col.  Nathan  Barrett 
rented  the  house  from  1821  to  1828,  during  which  period  it  was 
a  political  headquarters  as  well  as  hotel,  and  was  known  as  the 
Shore  House.  In  1828  Capt.  Henry  Fountain  purchased  it,  and 
he  and  his  son  ran  it  as  the  Fountain  House  until  1859,  when  it 
ceased  to  be  a  hotel.  In  1861  a  group  of  Southerners  rented  the 
house  and  occupied  it  during  the  early  part  of  the  war.  These 
naturally  kept  very  much  to  themselves  and  were  watched  with 
distrustful  eyes.  In  1896  the  building  was  demolished  to  make 
room  for  the  Tompkins  department  store. 

Many  a  ball  of  note  was  given  in  the  old  Fountain  House 
ballroom ;  one  of  these,  that  given  by  the  Tompkins  Guards  in 
1843,  resulted  in  a  riot  because  uninvited  guests  threw  stones 
through  the  windows  after  having  been  expelled  from  the  ball- 
room. They  could  not  understand  why  any  one  should  be  de- 
prived the  freedom  of  a  public  house.  In  the  thirties  and  for- 
ties the  Franklin  Library  was  maintained  in  a  back  room.  This 
contained  a  valuable  collection  of  books  and  was  supported  by 
the  prominent  men  of  the  North  Shore.  Elections  were  held 
here.  In  one,  it  is  said,  the  honest  politicians  paid  out  over 
$500  for  dinners  for  voters.  The  salary  attached  to  the  office 
sought  was  $400. 

It  was  in  the  Fountain  House  that  Allen  Dodworth,  the 
famous  bandmaster,  began  his  career.  At  the  end  of  each 
dance  he  would  strike  his  bow  on  the  back  of  his  violin  as  a 
signal  for  dancers  to  walk  up  and  pay  the  musicians.  It  was 
in  this  old  ballroom  that  the  expression  "fiddlers'  change"  had 
its  origin.  On  the  veranda  of  this  place  Wendell  Phillips  made 
one  of  his  famous  abolition  speeches,  after  an  introduction  by 
George  William  Curtis,  but  the  Factoryville  copperhead 
roughs  broke  up  the  meeting.  The  house  had  a  long  and 
eventful  history. 

Mrs.  Leonowens 

A  few  years  after  the  Civil  War  there  arrived  in  our  midst 
a  stranger,  an  Englishwoman,  and  provided  with  most  ample 
letters  of  introduction.  These  letters  were  to  Mrs.  William 
Templeton  Johnson  of  Bement  Avenue,  but,  once  met,  no  let- 
ters of  introduction  were  necessary  to  establish  Mrs.  Leon- 
owens among  us  as  one  of  the  most  gracious  and  charming  of 
personalities. 


92 


NORTH  SHORE 


She  was,  as  I  have  said,  of  English  birth,  married  in  her 
youth  to  an  officer  of  the  British  Army  of,  I  think,  Welsh  ex- 
traction. Of  him  we  gathered  but  little,  but  I  have  the  impres- 
sion of  a  rather  dashing,  unstable  chap  who  died  early,  leaving 
his  young  widow  and  two  tiny  children  to  shift  for  themselves 
in  India. 

The  widow  was  one  of  those  dauntless  souls  who  bravely 
faced  this  cruel  situation  and  looked  about  her  for  means  of 
support.  Learning  that  the  King  of  Siam  wanted  an  English 
governess  for  his  eighty-one  children,  Mrs.  Leonowens  applied 
for  the  situation  and  was  accepted. 

Her  daughter  was  sent  home  to  England  to  be  educated, 
but  the  younger  child,  a  boy,  she  kept  with  her.  For  several 
years  Mrs.  Leonowens  held  this  position,  and  the  story  of  her 
experiences  she  has  told  in  two  very  interesting  books,  "The 
English  Governess  at  the  Siamese  Court",  and  "The  Romance 
of  the  Harem". 

That  her  teachings  were  not  in  vain  has  been  proved,  I  have 
understood,  by  the  fact  that  the  then  Crown  Prince,  on  his 
accession  to  the  throne,  abolished  many  of  the  most  objec- 
tionable and  un-European  customs  and  habits  of  his  court  and 
kingdom  and  made  the  Siamese  Government  more  modern  and 
humane. 

I  do  not  know  why  this  position  ended  for  Mrs.  Leonowens, 
or  when  she  returned  to  England,  but  I  do  remember  hearing 
the  older  people  say  that  a  woman  of  her  brilliant  and  aggres- 
sive personality,  of  her  initiative  and  outspoken  freedom  of 
action,  must  have  found  the  conservatism  and  the  hidebound 
observance  of  precedents  and  custom  of  her  English  relations 
of  half  a  century  ago  too  trying  to  be  long  borne. 

So  armed  with  letters  of  introduction  to  some  outstanding 
Americans,  Mrs.  Leonowens  and  her  beautiful  daughter  came 
to  the  United  States.  This  time  the  boy  was  left  in  England 
to  be  educated. 

Why  she  chose  Staten  Island  as  a  residence,  I  do  not  know ; 
perhaps  her  thought  was  to  be  near  New  York,  and  the  letter 
to  Mrs.  Johnson  from  Mrs.  James  T.  Fields  of  Boston  settled 
it.  At  any  rate,  she  came  and  established  herself  in  the  little 
house  on  the  corner  of  the  Terrace  and  what  is  now  Tompkins 
Place,  in  West  New  Brighton,  or  Factoryville  as  it  was  then. 
She  and  Avis  then  opened  a  school  for  little  children,  and  all 
of  us  who  were  old  enough  to  go  were  enrolled  as  pupils.  Some 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


93 


of  us  were  so  small  that  we  could  not  walk  that  far,  and  had 
to  be  dragged  over  the  snow  on  our  sleds.  Miss  Avis  was  the 
real  teacher,  though  I  remember  Mrs.  Leonowens  sitting  at 
a  big  table  in  the  schoolroom.  Here  Mrs.  Leonowens  wrote 
her  books,  and  also  from  here  she  began  to  go  about  delivering 
lectures  on  Siam  and  the  East.  This,  I  fancy,  was  her  real 
business,  for  I  remember  absences  on  lecturing  tours  through- 
out the  neighboring  States ;  and  everywhere  she  made  friends, 
people  who  grew  to  love  and  admire  her  till  the  day  of  her 
death. 

She  was  a  brunette  with  waving  hair,  parted  above  a  pair  of 
brilliant,  eager,  searching  eyes,  rather  a  tanned  skin,  and  a 
warm-hearted,  affectionate  manner  which  endeared  her  to  all 
who  met  her. 

It  wis  a  red-letter  day  when  Mrs.  Leonowens  came  to  call, 
and  more  especially  when  she  was  invited  to  a  meal.  Conver- 
sation was  always  lively  then,  and  most  interesting,  even  if  a 
bit  over  the  head  of  the  youngest  member  of  the  family,  and 
there  were  sure  to  be  references  to,  and  stories  of,  Eastern  life, 
full  of  interest  and  thrills  of  adventure  equal  to  those  found  in 
the  best  of  our  books. 

Some  years  after  Mrs.  Leonowens  had  left  the  Island,  one 
of  the  eighty-one  children  whose  education  she  had  undertaken 
in  Siam,  arrived  in  New  York  on  his  way  around  the  world, 
attended  by  a  suitable  suite  of  Siamese  nobles  and  heralded  by 
all  the  newspapers.  Mrs.  Leonowens  came  down  from  Hali- 
fax, where  she  then  lived,  to  meet  his  Royal  Highness.  A  large 
reception  was  given  the  Prince  and  Mrs.  Leonowens  by  Mrs. 
Vincenzo  Botta,  and  Mrs.  Leonowens  sent  invitations  to  her 
old  Staten  Island  friends.  It  was  my  good  fortune  to  be  urged 
to  attend  this  social  function  by  an  ever-thoughtful  mother. 
Arrayed  in  my  best  silk  dress,  with  little  bonnet  to  match,  and 
scared  nearly  to  death,  I  heard  my  name  announced  at  Mrs. 
Botta's  awesome  drawing-room  door. 

At  the  end  of  one  room  stood  a  long  line  of  short,  oriental 
gentlemen,  but,  alas!  dressed  in  frock  coats  and  the  conven- 
tional shirt  and  four-in-hand  tie,  a  bitter  disappointment,  for 
I  had  expected  silken  flowing  robes  and  perhaps  turbans  and 
cimetars ;  but  about  the  latter  I  was  a  bit  in  doubt. 

Mrs.  Leonowens  took  my  hand  and  presented  me  to  the 
Prince,  rapidly  speaking  in  Siamese  and  as  rapidly  translating, 
"That  I  had  been  an  old  pupil  of  hers."   He  bowed  and,  placing 


94 


NORTH  SHORE 


a  pointing  finger  on  his  breast,  said  in  English,  "I,  too!  I, 
too!" 

The  last  and  most  vivid  picture  in  my  mind  of  Mrs.  Leon- 
owens  and  her  Siamese  connection  is  of  her  two  little  Indian 
grandchildren.  Her  son,  on  reaching  manhood,  went  back  to 
Siam  and  received  some  position  at  the  hands  of  the  King, 
married  an  Indian  Princess  with  an  English  father  (so  the  tale 
went)  and  died,  leaving  two  children,  and  nothing  else,  to  Mrs. 
Leonowens.  These  children  and  their  Indian  nurse  were 
brought  to  Halifax,  where  the  nurse  attended  them  in  the 
street,  holding  large  silk  parasols  over  their  noble  little  heads 
and  deeply  resenting  the  lack  of  the  respect  for  which  their 
exalted  position  called. 

Mary  Otis  (Gay)  Willcox. 

Church  of  the  Ascension 

The  Church  of  the  Ascension  stands  on  the  site  of  an  Indian 
village.  "When  the  new  Parish  House  was  erected  in  1903, 
shells  and  implements  are  said  to  have  been  found.  During  the 
Revolution  the  British  had  a  redoubt  here.  In  1777  a  small 
body  of  American  troops  under  a  Major  Pearce  attacked  this 
redoubt  and  took  a  number  of  prisoners  whom  they  were  forced 
to  abandon  when  in  turn  attacked  by  superior  numbers  at  what 
was  later  called  Pelton's  Cove. 

Before  the  Civil  War  it  was  a  common  sight  of  a  pleasant 
Sunday  morning  to  see  a  fleet  of  small  boats  put  out  from  Ber- 
gen Point  for  the  foot  of  Water  St.,  West  New  Brighton,  to  at- 
tend services  in  the  Church  of  the  Ascension.  Many  was  the 
quarter  and  half  dollar  that  some  of  the  nimble  youths  of  these 
parts  earned  in  those  days  by  rowing  the  Latourettes,  Zabrisk- 
ies  and  other  Bergen  Pointers  to  and  from  church. 

The  First  Bakery  on  the  North  Shore 

About  1832,  John  Bush,  then  about  27  years  of  age,  bought 
a  property  on  the  water  side  of  the  Shore  Road,  at  the  foot  of 
Water  Street,  from  the  Bodine  estate.  The  lot  was  108  feet 
frontage,  and  ran  back  to  tide  water  100  feet  more  or  less. 

On  this  property  he  established  a  bakery  which  is  believed 
to  be  the  first  one  on  the  North  Shore.  It  became  the  center 
of  an  active  business  for  those  early  days,  employing  three 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


95 


bread  bakers,  two  cake  and  cracker  bakers,  and  four  drivers 
with  the  necessary  equipment  of  horses  and  wagons  for  the 
various  delivery  routes. 

The  delivery  routes  covered  the  north  and  east  shores  with 
the  interior  territory  adjacent  thereto,  the  most  important  be- 
ing the  Quarantine  Station  and  Grymes'  Hill  routes,  the  latter 
serving  Madam  Grymes,  who  was  a  favorite  and  particular 
patron  of  this  bakery.  Another  valuable  patron  was  the  Sailors 
Snug  Harbor  institution. 

This  business  flourished  until  about  1845,  when  Mr.  Bush 
closed  out  and  retired  to  a  small  farm  he  had  purchased  at 
Watchogue,  or  Bloomfield,  as  it  is  now  called,  where  he  died 
in  1875. 

This  John  Bush  was  the  grandson  of  a  John  Bush — his  Rev- 
olutionary ancestor — who  came  over  from  England  under  Gen- 
eral Wolfe  and  fought  with  the  English  at  the  Plains  of  Abra- 
ham in  the  taking  of  Quebec.  Later  he  settled  in  the  States, 
marrying  an  American,  and  when  the  Revolution  broke  out  he 
cast  his  lot  with  the  Americans,  fighting  with  the  Continentals 
at  Bunker  Hill,  as  related  in  Clute's  History  of  Staten  Island. 

His  son  William  was  the  father  of  the  John  Bush  of  this 
sketch,  who  was  left  an  orphan  at  the  age  of  4  years,  and  was 
adopted  by  Catherine  Drisler,  his  father's  sister,  in  1809.  In 
this  home  he  learned  the  bakery  business  from  his  uncle,  Henry 
Drisler,  who  had  established  one  of  the  earliest — if  not  the 
first — bakeries  on  Staten  Island,  at  Tompkinsville,  opposite  the 
old  Nautilus  Hall.  Mr.  Drisler  had  two  sons,  Henry  and  John, 
with  whom  young  Bush  attended  school.  The  two  Drisler 
boys  were  studious  and  attended  college,  John  becoming  an 
episcopal  clergyman  and  Henry  a  professor  in  Columbia 
College. 

Under  these  conditions  it  seemed  quite  natural  for  Mr.  Bush 
to  follow  his  uncle  and  foster-father  in  the  bakery  business, 
which  he  did,  later  establishing  his  own  bakery  on  the  North 
Shore,  at  the  foot  of  Water  Street,  West  New  Brighton,  in 
1832;  that  general  locality  being  known  as  Factoryville. 

At  that  period  the  principal  settlements  on  the  Island  were 
naturally  along  the  South  and  North  Shores,  and  this  section 
in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Trinity  Chapel — now  Ascension 
Church — was  peopled  with  many  of  the  leading  families  of  the 
North  Shore,  among  them  the  DeGroots,  Clarks,  Woodruffs, 
Barkers,  Barretts,  Crabtrees,  Bodines,  Fountains  and  Taylors, 


96 


NORTH  SHORE 


the  names  of  some  of  whom  are  still  perpetuated  in  the  names 
of  the  streets  in  that  vicinity. 

The  patronage  of  these  families  resulted  in  the  establish- 
ment of  an  excellent  private  school  which  was  taught  by  one 
Adlam,  a  man  of  rather  superior  qualifications  as  an  educator, 
assisted  by  his  two  capable  daughters.  Mr.  Adlam  limited  his 
school  to  twenty  pupils,  most  of  them  children  of  the  aforesaid 
families,  but  a  few  came  from  prominent  families  residing  at 
Bergen  Point,  just  across  the  Kill  van  Kull. 

Lawyer  Alfred  DeGroot  and  his  brothers,  John  and  James ; 
Dr.  James  G.  Clark,  Ward  Woodruff  and  Alfred,  his  brother; 
John  Barker  with  his  brother  and  two  sisters;  Mary  Barrett 
and  her  brother,  and  William  Bush,  son  of  the  John  Bush  of 
this  sketch,  were  all  pupils  of  Master  Adlam.  The  school  was 
located  in  "The  Village",  or  Factoryville,  as  it  was  then  called ; 
the  definite  site  not  now  known,  but  probably  on  Broadway. 

Mr.  Bush  left  four  children,  two  of  whom  are  still  living: 
Mrs.  Frances  J.  Merrell  of  Mariners'  Harbor,  and  William 
Bush  of  New  Brighton,  father  of  Mrs.  T.  Livingstone  Ken- 
nedy of  Fort  Hill,  now  in  his  95th  year,  from  whom  many  of 
the  facts  mentioned  herein  have  been  learned. 

The  bakery  property  after  Mr.  Bush  retired,  about  1845, 
was  rented  by  him,  and  subsequently  by  his  heirs,  for  various 
business  purposes.  The  house  was  used  for  a  dwelling,  and 
also  in  later  years  for  a  grocery,  the  latter  kept  by  one  Charles 
Schneider. 

The  barns  and  stables  were  leased  for  a  long  period  by 
Elijah  Vanderbilt,  father  of  Cornelius  Vanderbilt,  the  con- 
tractor who  carried  on  there  a  flourishing  livery  business  in  the 
days  when  gasolene  and  the  motors  propelled  thereby  were  not 
even  dreamed  of. 

The  land  under  water  adjacent  to  Mr.  Bush's  property  and 
the  riparian  rights  in  which  he  had  not  availed  of  in  his  life- 
time, together  with  the  adjoining  land  under  water  in  the  cove 
between  West  New  Brighton  and  Port  Richmond,  was  very 
actively  sought  after  by  the  S.  I.  Rapid  Transit  R.  R.  Co., 
which  wanted  it  for  trackage  purposes  some  time  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  19th  Century.  Many  of  the  upland  owners,  notably 
Mrs.  Baldwin  Douglas  and  Adam  Romer,  resisted  this  attempt 
of  the  railroad  company,  which  led  to  expensive  litigation,  the 
results  of  which  were  not  very  satisfactory  to  the  property 
owners  who  were  parties  to  it. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


97 


The  Bush  heirs  declined  to  join  in  this  litigation,  following 
the  advice  of  their  counsel,  DeGroot,  Rawson  &  Stafford.  The 
railroad  company  had  started  proceedings  to  acquire  from  the 
State  the  land  under  water  of  those  upland  owners  who  had 
not  themselves  obtained  grants  therefor  from  the  State,  paying 
to  the  State  authorities  the  sum  of  $10,000,  it  is  stated,  in  con- 
sideration therefor.  Accordingly  many  people  thought  the 
Bush  heirs  by  their  inactivity  had  forfeited  their  riparian  rights. 
This,  however,  proved  to  be  not  the  case,  as  they  subsequently 
employed  the  noted  legal  expert  in  such  matters,  the  late  Cal- 
vin D.  Van  Name,  in  1906,  to  secure  the  grant  to  them  of  the 
land  under  water  adjacent  to  their  property  out  to  the  bulk- 
head line,  which  they  acquired  and  subsequently  sold  to  the 
Rapid  Transit  Railroad  Company  for  a  substantial  figure. 
The  railroad  company  filled  in  out  to  their  tracks  and  beyond, 
and  erected  on  this  site  the  present  West  Brighton  freight 
station. 

Later  on,  when  the  old  house  was  demolished,  the  old  brick 
oven,  unused  since  1845,  was  disclosed  to  public  gaze,  exciting 
much  curiosity  and  speculation  among  the  then  residents  of 
that  neighborhood,  very  few  of  whom  were  aware  that  this  was 
the  site  of  what  was  probably  the  earliest  bakery  in  that  part 
of  Staten  Island. 

Nothing  now  remains  but  the  memory  of  this  once  flour- 
ishing bakery  and  the  other  business  activities  formerly  car- 
ried on  at  this  spot. 

Marie  Alice  Bush  Kennedy. 

Dr.  James  Guyon  Clark 

Dr.  James  Guyon  Clark,  who  died  in  1915,  at  the  age  of 
go  years,  resided  at  the  east  corner  of  Taylor  Street.  His 
father,  Dr.  Ephraim  Clark,  built  here  about  1825,  and  here  he 
also  established  a  drug  store.  Dr.  J.  G.  Clark  established  his 
medical  reputation  by  the  remarkable  cure  of  a  young  daughter 
of  Edward  Bement,  after  the  leading  physicians  of  this  coun- 
try, Paris,  and  London,  had  given  her  up.  This  and  another 
notable  case  in  Bayonne  gave  him  a  nationwide  reputation. 
His  hobbies  appear  to  have  been  books,  horses,  friends,  and  a 
group  of  large  black  walnut  trees  that  cast  their  grateful  shade 
over  his  residence,  some  of  which  are  still  standing. 


98 


NORTH  SHORE 


The  Dongan  Manor 

The  Dongan  Manor  house  stood  in  the  square  bounded  by 
Richmond  Terrace,  Dongan,  Cedar  and  Bodine  Streets.  It 
was  erected  in  1688  by  Governor  Thomas  Dongan,  and  was 
destroyed  by  fire  on  Christmas  Day,  1878.  The  Dongan  mill 
stood  further  south,  v/here  Post  Avenue  crosses  the  east 
branch  of  Palmer's  Run.  Old  New  York  City  records  contain 
an  account  of  a  meeting  of  the  council  at  which  it  was  noted 
that  Governor  Dongan  was  absent,  being  "at  his  hunting  lodge 
on  Staten  Island,  killing  bears." 

In  due  time  Thomas  Dongan  succeeded  to  the  earldom  of 
Limerick,  in  Ireland,  and  conveyed  his  Staten  Island  property 
to  his  three  nephews.  The  Manor  house  remained  in  the  Don- 
gan family  until  1795,  when  it  passed  to  John  McVicker  who, 
in  1802,  sold  to  Alexander  McComb.  This  may  have  been 
Major  General  McComb,  the  "hero  of  Plattsburg."  The  Bo- 
dines  were  the  next  owners,  then  came  Judge  Ogden  Edwards, 
of  the  Supreme  Court.  Following  him  came  Jacob  Bodine, 
Jacob  Post,  C.  Willis  Windsor,  J.  H.  Williamson  and  Albert 
Bodine,  the  last  owner. 

No  doubt  many  stories  might  be  discovered  concerning  the 
occupants  of  this  historic  old  house,  though  we  have  happened 
on  but  two. 

During  the  Revolution  the  Dongan  Manor  house  was  oc- 
cupied by  John  Bodine.  Having  received  a  large  sum  of  money 
one  day,  he  concealed  it  beneath  the  hearthstone,  lest  rumors  of 
his  wealth  tempt  those  who  break  in  and  steal  to  pay  him  a 
professional  visit.  Whether  the  news  did  get  out,  or  whether 
they  were  on  a  regular  tour  of  inspection,  is  not  known,  but 
he  was  called  on  by  a  body  of  British  soldiers,  and  ordered  to 
surrender  his  money.  He  claimed  to  have  none  and,  after  they 
had  seached  the  house  diligently,  but  with  no  success,  they 
took  him  in  hand  and,  stripping  him,  applied  to  the  soles  of 
his  feet  and  other  parts  of  his  body  live  coals  from  the  fire 
that  was  at  the  very  moment  burning  above  the  gold  they  were 
seeking.  Their  host,  however,  clung  to  his  original  tale  until 
they  gave  up  the  attempt,  leaving  him  to  mend  his  hurts  as 
best  he  could.  No  doubt  Mr.  Bodine  would  have  whole-heart- 
edly agreed  with  General  Sherman's  definition  of  war,  had  the 
General  but  spoken  at  an  earlier  date. 

Anthon  quotes  Doctor  Moore  as  saying,  in  1850,  that,  when 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


99 


young,  he  used  to  amuse  himself  by  picking  shot  out  of  the 
shingles  of  the  house,  fired  against  it  by  a  British  vessel,  which 
grounded  in  passing,  and  which  discharged  small  shot  at  the 
building  in  revenge  for  not  having  been  informed  of  the  shal- 
lowness of  the  water. 

The  histories  tell  us  that  Judge  Ogden  Edwards  bought  the 
Dongan  Manor  house,  but  was  finally  compelled  to  surrender 
it  because  he  could  not  carry  the  mortgage.  Family  records, 
however,  indicate  a  somewhat  different  situation.  According 
to  these,  the  Judge  did  bargain  for  the  property  and  a  price  was 
fixed,  but  he  could  not,  or  did  not  care  to  meet  it,  and  com- 
promised by  renting  the  place.  When  he  had  paid  in  rent  an 
amount  of  money  equal  to  the  agreed  price,  he  calmly  an- 
nounced that  the  property  was  his.  The  owner,  not  being  in 
accord  with  this  view  of  the  situation,  brought  suit  to  re- 
cover his  property,  but  owing,  apparently,  to  the  position  of 
the  Judge  on  the  bench,  lost  his  case.  He  then  came  to  New 
York  and  secured  the  services  of  a  celebrated  lawyer,  who  soon 
poked  so  many  holes  in  the  Judge's  claim  that  it  would  no 
longer  stand  the  light  of  day,  and  the  Judge  moved  on. 

The  Road  as  It  Was 

The  road,  at  least  east  of  Palmer's  Run  or  Bodine's  Creek, 
was  formerly  very  low  and  swampy,  and  on  stormy  nights 
when  the  tide  was  at  flood,  the  bridge  over  the  creek  was  a 
terror  to  belated  travelers.  It  is  recalled  that  Dr.  Clark  drove 
his  team  of  horses  into  the  creek  one  such  night,  and  had  a 
mighty  struggle  to  regain  the  land.  In  fact,  so  outrageously 
bad  was  the  traveling  under  such  circumstances  that  when  a 
Port  Richmond  beau  could  be  induced  to  venture  so  far  afield 
to  call  on  any  young  lady  resident  along  here,  it  was  consid- 
ered a  sure  sign  that  she  was  the  belle  of  the  countryside. 

There  existed  at  one  time  a  high  sand  hill  between  the 
Dongan  Manor  house  and  the  water,  but  some  fifty  years  or 
so  ago  this  was  removed  under  the  direction  of  Robert  Ward- 
law,  a  civil  engineer,  and  used  to  fill  in  the  low  land  in  order 
to  raise  the  Terrace  above  the  floods.  This  hill  appears  to 
have  been  an  Indian  burial  mound,  as  skeletons  and  many  im- 
plements of  the  vanished  race  were  found. 


IOO 


NORTH  SHORE 


The  Irish  Cow-Frog  of  Britton's  Pond 

The  plain  truth  concerning  it  as  narrated  to  Charles  W. 
Leng  by  Davy  Carlin,  who  was  formerly  employed  by  Adam 
Scott  : 

The  capture  of  this  frog  by  two  men  from  the  city,  and  the 
accurate  determination  of  its  weight,  finally  disposes  of  the 
rumors  that  have  been  prevalent  in  West  New  Brighton  con- 
cerning it  for  the  last  ten  years.  It  is  said  to  have  been  brought 
to  this  country  in  captivity,  from  Ireland,  a  number  of  years 
ago,  by  a  man  who  was  employed  about  the  icehouse  at  the 
southern  end  of  the  pond,  and  who  had  the  habit  of  securing 
it  in  the  shallow  water  of  the  pond  while  at  work.  He  valued 
it  as  the  only  specimen  of  Irish  Cow-Frog  in  this  country,  and 
was  deeply  chagrined  when,  one  day,  it  made  its  escape. 
Many  vain  attempts  were  made  to  recapture  it,  though  it  ap- 
parently never  left  Britton's  Pond,  for  its  remarkably  deep  and 
resonant  tones,  resembling  the  "honk-honk"  of  an  automobile, 
were  often  heard,  and  it  was  repeatedly  seen  by  children — of 
whom  it  seemed  to  have  no  fear — though  very  shy  when  adults 
were  about.  Davy  himself  states  that  he  often  heard  it,  and 
had  no  difficulty  in  recognizing  the  difference  between  its 
tones  and  those  of  the  ordinary  bullfrog.  On  one  occasion,  in 
particular,  when  returning  very  late  at  night — or  early  in  the 
morning — from  a  wake,  the  automobile-like  ton^s  so  deceived 
him  that  he  jumped  to  one  side  to  avoid  the  machine  he  sup- 
posed was  responsible  for  the  sound,  and  on  the  repetition  of 
the  honk-honk,  jumped  repeatedly  from  side  to  side  of  the 
road,  under  the  impression  that  the  chauffeur  was  pursuing 
him,  until  quite  exhausted.  If  it  had  not  been  for  the  good 
luck  of  finding  the  Point  House  open,  so  that  he  could  pro- 
cure a  little  of  the  same  stimulant  with  which  he  had  been 
supplied  at  the  wake,  the  consequences  of  his  fright  might  have 
been  serious. 

The  Irish  Cow-Frog  was  considered  harmless,  and  it  was 
even  said  that  small  children  sometimes  rode  on  its  back.  The 
woman  who  lives  behind  the  icehouse  missed  her  youngest,  a 
boy  of  four  years,  one  day,  and  after  some  search,  found  him  on 
the  opposite  shore.  The  boy  claimed  to  have  ridden  over  on  the 
Irish  Cow-Frog's  back,  and  the  mother  whipped  him  soundly 
for  lying;  but  unjustly,  in  Davy's  opinion,  for  there  was  noth- 
ing impossible  in  a  frog  of  this  size,  weighing  150  pounds  on 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


IOI 


the  scales,  swimming  the  short  distance  involved,  with  the 
boy  clinging  to  him,  as  he  naturally  would. 

The  weight  has  been  increased  by  popular  gossip  to  274 
pounds,  but,  as  Davy  properly  pointed  out,  no  one  ever  heard 
of  a  frog  attaining  such  a  prodigious  weight,  and  the  actual 
known  weight  is  sufficient  to  maintain  the  reputation  of  the 
Irish  Cow-Frog  as  the  largest  of  its  race,  without  resorting  to 
unnecessary  exaggeration. 

Subsequent  Note. — Davy  Carlin  has  informed  the  authors 
concerning  the  last  days  of  the  Cow-Frog  on  Staten  Island. 
It  became  evident,  just  before  the  World  War,  that  the  frog 
was  languishing;  two  warts  on  its  back  that  were  formerly, 
when  the  frog  was  in  good  health,  as  large  as  watermelons, 
became  much  reduced,  and  its  voice  could  not  be  heard  over  a 
quarter  c:  a  mile.  A  road  contractor  by  the  name  of  Hooligan, 
from  the  same  town  in  Ireland  from  whence  first  came  the 
Cow-Frog,  offered  his  services  and,  bringing  a  motor  truck  and 
derrick,  a  chain  was  deftly  slipped  under  the  frog,  while  its 
back  was  being  stroked  by  one  of  its  juvenile  playmates,  and 
it  was  hoisted  aboard.  It  was  carted  down  to  the  American 
Docks,  placed  aboard  a  ship,  and  transported  to  Ireland.  It 
arrived  safely,  and  now  lives  happily  in  a  pond  in  County  Lim- 
erick, which  is  not  far  from  Tipperary,  its  health  having  been 
completely  restored  on  regaining  its  native  environment. 

Port  Richmond 

The  Clove  road  is  the  division  line  between  West  New 
Brighton  and  Port  Richmond. 

As  different  individuals  operated  the  ferry  at  this  point,  it 
was  known  in  part  or  places  after  their  names,  as  Decker's, 
Ryers',  Dacosta's,  Hilleker's,  or  Mersereau's  Ferry.  At  one 
time  the  Port  Richmond  locality  was  known  as  New  Bristol. 
It  is  said  that  the  ferry  to  Bergen  Point  is  the  lineal  descendant 
of  a  very  early  ferry,  possibly  established  by  the  Indians  and 
taken  over  by  the  Dutch.  It  was  at  least  operated  so  long  ago 
as  to  be  useful  in  helping  to  remove  the  Dutch  from  Staaten 
Eylandt  at  the  outbreak  of  the  "Peach  War",  when  those  who 
escaped  the  tomahawk  did  so  by  crossing  from  here  to  the 
mainland.   The  town  of  Port  Richmond  was  chartered  in  1866. 

Eighty  years  ago,  more  or  less,  a  wheezy  old  horse-boat 
carried  passengers  between  Port  Richmond  and  Bergen  Point ; 


102 


NORTH  SHORE 


the  motive  power  was  a  treadmill,  that  broke  down  on  the 
slightest  pretext,  and  it  would  sometimes  take  an  hour  to  make 
the  passage. 

James  Hillyer,  born  1831,  remembers  as  a  small  boy,  about 
1839,  watching  Coyle's  horse-boat  cross  the  Kill  van  Kull.  If 
the  tide  were  strong,  the  operator  of  the  boat  had  to  whip  the 
horses  on  its  treadmill  to  prevent  the  boat  drifting  towards 
the  bay;  the  galloping  animals  on  the  treadmill  being  a  great 
attraction. 

Alfred  DeGroot 

The  DeGroot  house  at  the  corner  of  the  Clove  Road  was 
built  about  100  years  ago.  presumably  by  one  Hilleker,  who 
ran  a  ferry  at  Port  Richmond  during  the  very  early  years  of 
the  19th  Century. 

In  182 1,  Dr.  Ephraim  Clark,  Jr.,  settled  on  Staten  Island, 
this  house  being  his  first  home,  and  it  was  here  that  Dr.  James 
Guyon  Clark  was  born,  and  from  here  that  Dr.  Clark  moved 
to  his  own  home  at  the  corner  of  Taylor  Street. 

Alfred  DeGroot  deserves  more  than  a  passing  word.  He 
was  not  only  a  good  man,  commanding  the  respect  of  all,  but 
he  was  a  good  lawyer.  It  used  to  be  said  that,  whenever  two 
farmers  got  at  loggerheads,  both  harnessed  their  horses  and 
drove  for  Mr.  DeGroot  post-haste;  the  one  who  reached  him 
first  and  secured  his  services  being  assured  of  victory.  Mr.  De- 
Groot was  mentioned  by  Anthon,  in  1850,  as  a  promising  young 
man.  He  was  much  interested  in  the  history  and  story  of  the 
Island  and,  having  a  fine  memory,  was  referred  to  frequently 
in  such  matters.  He  is  credited  with  being  largely  responsible 
for  much  of  the  early  success  of  Port  Richmond;  was  instru- 
mental in  securing  the  land  for  the  park,  and  saw  to  the  plant- 
ing of  the  trees.  He  suggested  many  of  the  broad  streets  and 
avenues.  He  was  generous  to  the  poor  and  to  those  who  stood 
in  need  of  good  counsel.  As  one  has  said  of  him,  "Whatever 
he  had  was  only  his  to  give  to  whomsoever  needed  it  more." 

Jewett.  Avenue 

Mr.  Alfred  DeGroot  once  told  how  Betsy  Simonson  swept 
all  before  her.  It  seems  that  Colonel  Richard  Conner  was 
commissioned  to  survey  Jewett  Avenue,  from  Cherry  Lane 
(now,  by  the  grace  of  the  politicians,  Forest  Avenue)  to  Rich- 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


103 


mond  Terrace.  When  the  surveyors  appeared  on  the  scene, 
Betsy  Simonson,  who  lived  at  the  northern  end  of  the  pro- 
posed route,  and  who  did  not  approve  of  a  road  through  her 
property,  came  forth,  armed  with  a  broom  and,  with  its  aid, 
put  up  such  an  effective  argument  that  the  Colonel  ran  with 
the  best  of  them.  Whether  the  authorities  had  the  law  on  the 
lady,  or  whether  some  other  more  delicate  method  of  persua- 
sion was  used,  is  not  now  recalled,  but  whatever  it  may  have 
been,  it  was  evidently  more  convincing  than  her  line  of  reason- 
ing, as  the  road  was  eventually  put  through. 

Danner's  Hotel 

Danner's  Hotel,  the  old  Port  Richmond  Hotel,  stands  on 
the  site  of  the  brick  dwelling  of  Captain  Isaac  Decker,  which 
was  burned  during  the  Revolution  by  the  American  General 
Sullivan,  in  a  raid  on  Staten  Island.  This  Decker,  who  was  a 
fisherman,  had  made  himself  quite  obnoxious  by  his  loyalist 
leanings.  When  the  British  fleet  approached  the  Lower  Bay 
it  anchored  outside  of  Sandy  Hook  to  wait  for  pilots.  Decker, 
who  seems  to  have  been  the  leader,  went  down  with  others 
and  brought  the  ships  safely  in,  piloting  them  to  a  landing 
place,  and  himself  coming  on  shore  in  the  first  boat.  This  gave 
him  considerable  local  notoriety.  When  the  British  army  be- 
came established  on  Staten  Island,  Decker  joined  it  and  was 
given  command  of  a  troop  of  mounted  Loyalists.  After  his 
house  was  destroyed  by  the  Americans,  the  British  erected  a 
small  fort  on  the  site. 

Shortly  after  the  Revolution,  Judge  David  Mersereau  built 
a  dwelling  here.  At  the  time  it  was  considered  the  finest  house 
on  Staten  Island.  About  1820,  the  property  was  sold  and  the 
house  converted  into  the  Port  Richmond  Hotel.  Later  the 
name  was  changed  to  the  Continental  Hotel,  and  still  later  to 
the  St.  James.  Col.  Aaron  Burr  spent  the  closing  year  of  his 
life  here,  and  died  in  this  house  on  September  14,  1836.  In  this 
connection,  it  may  be  interesting  to  quote  what  John  Flavel 
Mines  wrote  concerning  Burr,  which  was  copied  in  the  West- 
field  (Staten  Island)  Times  of  May  21,  1887,  from  the  New 
York  Evening  Post: 

"During  the  last  illness  of  Aaron  Burr,  when  he  lay  dying 
at  New  Brighton,  my  Uncle  David  was  sent  for  to  visit  him. 
He  found  his  patient  past  help,  conscious  of  his  doom  and 


104 


NORTH  SHORE 


ready  for  it.  Alone,  shunned  on  all  sides,  impoverished,  with 
no  friend  to  close  his  eyes,  I  have  always  felt  that  he  might 
have  cried  with  Cain,  'My  punishment  is  greater  than  I  can 
bear!'  My  uncle  found  him  silent,  morose,  shabby,  and  cynical 
in  the  extreme — a  wonderful  contrast  to  the  brilliant  statesman 
and  elegant  leader  of  society  whom  he  had  met  as  a  youth  at 
Richmond  Hill,  his  magnificent  home  in  this  city.  Burr  said 
to  my  uncle  that  he  was  glad  the  end  had  come,  and  that  he 
had  wanted  to  die  ever  since  his  daughter  Theodosia  had  dis- 
appeared, on  her  last  ocean  voyage,  and  then  he  broke  forth 
into  bitter  denunciation  of  the  'hounds  who  had  pursued  him 
to  the  grave.' 

"I  have  never  wondered  at  his  bitterness  and,  in  spite  of  the 
prejudice  of  an  entire  people,  I  have  always  had  compassion 
for  Aaron  Burr.  The  man  who  fought  so  gallantly  at  Quebec 
and  on  other  fields,  whom  Washington  made  one  of  his  per- 
sonal staff,  who  was  Vice-President  of  the  United  States,  and 
for  seven  ballots  tied  Thomas  Jefferson  for  the  Presidency,  had 
certainly  some  redeeming  traits.  He  was  a  duelist — so  were 
DeWitt  Clinton,  Collector  Swartwout,  Recorder  'Dickey' 
Riker,  the  editor  James  Watson  Webb,  and  scores  of  other 
notable  New  Yorkers,  who  were  accustomed  on  slight  occa- 
sions to  step  over  to  Weehawken  and  adjust  their  little  differ- 
ences 'in  a  gentlemanly  fashion'  with  pistols.  And  finally,  he 
had  a  dream  of  building  up  a  great  empire  in  the  Southwest — 
such  as  Sam  Houston  afterwards  realized  at  the  expense  of 
Mexico. 

"I  find  Burr,  after  his  duel  with  Hamilton,  received  with 
usual  honors  at  Richmond  and  Washington,  and  made  the  sub- 
ject of  special  personal  attention  by  President  Jefferson,  Sec- 
retary Gallatin  and  Mr.  Madison ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  I  find 
his  political  and  personal  integrity  doubted,  and  his  financial 
embarrassments  become  hopeless,  and  in  this  I  see  the  be- 
ginning of  the  end.  It  was  a  wreck,  though  a  splendid  one, 
and  I  had  pity  always,  where  my  uncle  judged  with  excep- 
tional severity.'' 

Dutch  Church 

Apparently  the  first  authentic  record  is  the  grant  of  17 14 
to  build  a  new  church  edifice  on  the  north  shore.  A  baptismal 
record  of  1696  shows  that  a  church  organization  existed  as 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


105 


early  as  that  date,  and  the  burying  ground  dates  back  to  1705, 
or  earlier.  During  the  Revolution,  the  British  destroyed  the 
church,  and  in  1785  it  was  resolved  to  build  a  new  building  of 
brick. 

A  tablet  on  the  front  of  the  church  reads  as  follows: 

REFORMED  PROTESTANT 
DUTCH  CHURCH 
FOUNDED  1716 
DESTROYED  IN  THE  REVOLUTIONARY  WAR 
ERECTED  ANEW  1786 
REBUILT  AND  ENLARGED  1844 

O.  W.  BUEL 

FECIT 

In  1802,  the  Rev.  Peter  I.  Van  Pelt  began  his  ministry.  He 
is  credited  with  enlarging  and  beautifying  the  church,  and 
with  being  responsible  for  the  rebuilding  of  the  Dutch  Church 
at  Port  Richmond.  During  the  War  of  1812,  Mr.  Van  Pelt  was 
appointed  chaplain  to  the  militia  stationed  on  Staten  Island, 
and  later  he  was  appointed  chaplain  of  the  Regular  Army  of  the 
Third  Military  District,  in  the  Harbor  of  New  York. 

At  this  time  a  parochial  school  or  ''Seminary  of  Learning," 
commonly  known  as  "Van  Pelt's  Seminary,"  was  built  on 
ground  adjoining  the  church.  In  this  building  Mr.  Van  Pelt 
also  conducted  a  Sunday  School  in  the  year  1812,  which  was 
among  the  earliest  of  the  organized  Sunday  Schools  in  the 
United  States.  When  Lafayette  visited  New  York  in  1824 
Mr.  Van  Pelt  delivered  the  address  of  welcome. 

Those  who  have  become  used  to  the  after-war  style  of 
women's  dress,  and  learned  to  gaze  without  a  blink  on  the 
passing  throng,  will  be  apt  to  indulge  in  a  broad  smile  on  com- 
ing across  an  item  in  the  old  minutes  of  the  Dutch  Church,  to 
the  effect  that  a  certain  deacon's  wife  was  reprimanded  for 
holding  her  skirts  too  high  while  crossing  the  muddy  street. 
This  in  the  days  of  no  sidewalks  or  paved  streets ! 

On  the  other  hand,  the  dearly  beloved  brethren  of  today 
would  stand  aghast  at  the  method  pursued  by  Judge  Tysen  to 
raise  money  for  a  new  church  building.  It  seems  that  he  gath- 
ered the  members  under  his  roof  one  evening  and  supplied 
them  with  a  particularly  potent  brand  of  applejack  and,  when 


io6 


NORTH  SHORE 


his  visitors  were  mellowed  into  a  proper  frame  of  mind,  the 
subscription  paper  was  passed  around  and  amounts  put  down 
by  the  jovial  company  that  blanched  many  a  cheek  when  the 
full  significance  of  the  situation  dawned  with  the  morning  after. 
There  was  loud  complaint  and  denial  of  liability,  but  the  Judge 
had  the  signatures,  and  held  all  to  them  with  an  impartiality 
that  brought  him  more  curses  than  compliments.  These  items, 
we  are  assured,  are  writ  down  in  the  church  records. 

Progress  Hall 

Jaques  House,  Harrison  House,  Progress  Hall,  on  Rich- 
mond Avenue,  nearly  opposite  Harrison  Street,  was  built  by 
Isaac  Jaques,  son  of  a  Staten  Islander,  and  a  New  York 
merchant  of  considerable  prominence. 

In  1853,  Dr.  John  T.  Harrison  was  living  here.  Charles 
Anthon,  who  was  collecting  material  for  a  history  of  Staten 
Island,  interviewed  the  Doctor  who,  among  others,  spoke  of 
Cornelius  Mersereau,  who  was  born  in  this  house,  though  most 
of  his  life  was  lived  in  Mariners'  Harbor.  Concerning  Mer- 
sereau, he  said:  "He  deserves  to  have  his  name  recorded  for 
his  patriotism  and  sufferings.  If  there  ever  was  a  patriot, 
Cornelius  Mersereau  was  the  one.  During  the  Revolution  he 
more  than  once  swam  the  Staten  Island  sound  for  the  pur- 
pose of  carrying  intelligence.  He  was  one  of  the  most  honest, 
faithful  and  patriotic  of  men.  During  the  occupation  of  Staten 
Island  by  the  British  he  remained  on  the  Island,  though  they 
turned  him  out  of  his  property  and  occupied  it  themselves, 
causing  him  great  loss." 

His  tombstone,  now  standing  in  the  churchyard  of  the  Re- 
formed Dutch  Church  in  Port  Richmond,  reads  as  follows: 

IN 

MEMORY  OF 
CORNELIUS  MERSEREAU 
WHO  DEPARTED  THIS  LIFE  JULY 
27TH  1814:    AGED  75  YEARS 


My  flesh  shall  slumber  in  the  ground 
Till  the  last  trumpet's  joyful  sound, 
Then  burst  the  chains  in  sweet  surprise 
And  in  my  Savior's  Image  rise. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


107 


Alfred  DeGroot  has  stated  that  Commodore  Vanderbilt  was 
born  in  this  house. 

Faber  House 

About  1830,  more  or  less,  Grandmother  Windsor  lived  in 
the  Faber  house,  which  stood  on  the  bank  of  the  river  in  Port 
Richmond.  She  was  a  clergyman's  daughter  and  had  married 
the  son  of  a  wealthy  English  family,  who  had  been  sent  across 
the  waters  to  see  America,  and  who  immediately  succumbed 
to  the  young  lady's  charms.  For  such  a  breach  of  custon.  his 
family  promptly  disinherited  him,  and  he  was  thrown  on  his 
own  resources.  The  young  family  came  to  reside  in  the  Faber 
house.  In  those  days  houses  were  few  and  far  between.  In 
fact,  it  is  said,  there  were  but  three  in  this  locality,  and  when 
the  ferryboat  from  New  York  neared  the  Port  Richmond  land- 
ing, its  bell  would  be  rung  when  opposite  any  house  for  which 
it  was  carrying  passengers.  Thus  those  on  shore,  being  noti- 
fied, would  drive  down  to  the  dock  for  the  visitors. 

An  Exchange  of  Wives 

[From  Richmond  County  Gazette,  October  17,  1866.] 

Toward  the  close  of  the  year  1689,  the  people  of  Staten  Is- 
land became  alarmed  for  their  own  safety,  for  it  was  rumored 
that  the  Papists  on  the  Island  intended  to  cut  the  throats  of 
all  the  Protestants,  and  then  to  attack  the  City  of  New  York. 

During  the  continuance  of  the  alarm  some  of  the  people 
concealed  themselves  in  the  woods  during  the  night,  and  others 
resorted  to  their  boats  for  safety  during  the  hours  of  darkness. 
On  one  of  these  nights  a  ludicrous  mistake  was  made  by  two 
men  residing  on  the  North  Shore  of  the  Island,  which  was  the 
subject  of  much  amusement  after  the  alarm  had  subsided. 
These  men  were  neighbors ;  that  is  to  say,  they  dwelt  about 
a  mile  from  each  other,  which  at  that  period  constituted  them 
neighbors.  The  one  was  a  Frenchman  named  Fontaine,  who 
was  an  irritable,  passionate  and  jealous  man;  the  other  was  a 
descendant  of  one  of  the  original  Dutch  settlers,  whose  name 
was  Blum:  he  was  a  sedate,  phlegmatic  individual,  not  easily 
excited,  and  nothing  but  the  fear  of  having  his  trachea  sev- 
ered could  have  induced  him  to  abandon  the  comforts  of  his 
bed  on  the  night  alluded  to.   These  men,  like  the  most  of  those 


io8 


NORTH  SHORE 


who  lived  near  the  shores  of  the  Island,  kept  their  boats  for 
the  purpose  of  fishing  occasionally,  when  more  important  du- 
ties did  not  demand  their  attention,  and  it  so  happened  that 
their  boats  were  of  the  same  size  and  color,  so  that  it  was  not 
easy  to  distinguish  them  in  the  dark. 

Another  circumstance  which  contributed  toward  the  blun- 
der was  that  each  had  a  wife  and  one  child.  Without  previous 
agreement,  these  men,  with  their  families,  met  on  the  shore 
for  the  purpose  of  spending  the  night  in  their  boats  on  the 
water.  As  they  were  about  to  push  off,  one  of  the  women 
suggested  that  as  it  was  likely  to  be  a  cold  night  on  the  water, 
being  in  the  month  of  September,  some  additional  covering 
might  be  necessary  before  morning.  Acting  on  this  suggestion, 
each  man  returned  to  his  dwelling  house  to  procure  the  re- 
quired articles,  and  during  their  absence  one  of  the  boats  was 
drifted  from  the  shore  by  the  tide,  but  was  brought  back  again 
by  the  woman  in  it,  but  on  the  other  side  of  the  other  boat. 

The  two  men  on  their  return  met  at  some  distance  from 
the  shore  and  pursued  their  way  in  company  through  the  paths 
in  the  wood,  when  suddenly  becoming  alarmed  at  some  unusual 
noise  they  heard,  they  hurried  onward  and,  as  they  reached 
their  boats  and  cast  their  clothing  in  they  cautioned  the  women 
to  arrange  themselves  as  soon  as  possible  and  keep  perfect  si- 
lence. Stopping  a  few  minutes  to  listen  for  further  signs  of 
danger,  they  stepped  into  the  boats  and  pushed  off  from  the 
shore. 

Each  woman,  with  her  child  in  her  arms,  had  bestowed 
herself  as  comfortably  as  she  could  in  the  stern,  while  the  men 
were  pulling  at  a  little  distance  from  each  other  across  to  the 
Jersey  shore.  As  they  had  not  arranged  to  spend  the  night  11 
each  other's  vicinity,  the  Frenchman  kept  along  the  Jersey 
shore,  intending  to  enter  one  of  the  creeks  in  the  Bergen 
meadows,  while  the  Dutchman  turned  westward  for  the  en- 
trance into  Newark  Bay.  As  the  night  was  very  dark  and  tne 
distance  which  they  had  to  row  was  considerable,  by  the  tim^ 
they  had  reached  their  respective  destinations,  the  women  and 
children  were  fast  asleep  and  were  suffered  to  remain  undis- 
turbed. 

Blum  had  turned  the  point  into  the  bay  and  had  moored 
his  boat  under  the  limbs  of  a  tree  which  hung  over  the  watei 
and,  wraoped  in  his  overcoat,  sat  in  the  bow  of  the  boat  aozing 
the  night  away.    Toward  morning,  the  woman  in  the  stern 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


109 


raised  her  head,  and  inquired  in  a  subdued  tone  how  near  day- 
light it  was.  She  spoke  in  French,  a  language  which  Blum 
was  ignorant  of,  and  being  not  quite  wide-awake  himself,  sup- 
posed he  had  not  quite  understood  what  his  wife  had  said. 
Accordingly  he  exclaimed  "Hey?"  The  woman  repeated  her 
question.  Alarmed  beyond  measure  at  hearing  a  voice  not 
familiar  to  him,  he  sprang  to  his  feet  and  exclaimed,  "Ter 
Tuyfel!  but  who  be  you?" 

The  woman,  in  her  turn,  hearing  the  voice  of  a  man  she 
did  not  recognize,  became  alarmed  and  began  to  shriek,  and 
it  was  fortunate  for  poor  Blum  that  neighbors  were  so  few  and 
distant  as  to  be  out  of  hearing.  There  they  stood,  one  in  each 
end  of  the  boat,  ready  to  spring  into  the  water  and  wade  ashore, 
and  each  afraid  of  the  other.  The  Dutchman  was  perfectly  be- 
wildered ;  he  was  positive  that  he  had  placed  his  wife  and 
child  in  the  stern  of  his  boat  the  previous  evening,  but  where 
was  she  now,  and  who  was  the  strange  woman  whom  he  had 
been  watching  over  and  protecting  all  the  night  long?  In  the 
meanwhile  the  woman  occasionally  uttered  a  few  words  in 
French,  and  once  the  name  of  Fontaine.  Suddenly  it  flashed 
upon  the  Dutchman  that  he  and  the  Frenchman  had  not  only 
exchanged  boats,  but  cargoes  also,  and  with  the  aid  of  a  little 
broken  French  and  English  on  her  part,  and  a  little  broken 
Dutch  and  English  on  his  part,  they  began  to  understand  each 
other.  "Thunder  and  lightning!!"  he  exclaimed,  "I  see 
through  it  all,  now;  I  got  into  the  Frenchman's  boat  last  night 
and  he  got  into  mine.  I  ran  away  with  his  wife  and  child,  and 
he  ran  away  with  mine." 

The  discovery  of  the  mistake  occasioned  much  amusement 
for  the  man,  but  the  poor  woman,  who  knew  her  husband's 
disposition  thoroughly,  was  not  to  be  appeased ;  she  expressed 
a  good  deal  of  apprehension  for  the  consequence  when  she  and 
her  husband  should  meet  again. 

The  irritable  and  jealous  Frenchman  had  also  discovered 
the  mistake  before  daylight,  but  instead  of  becoming  alarmed, 
he  became  furious  and  threatened  to  pitch  the  woman  and  her 
child  into  the  creek,  but  as  she  was  a  Dutchwoman  of  pretty 
good  proportions,  and  one  likely  to  be  able  to  defend  herself, 
he  concluded  finally  that  the  issue  of  a  struggle  for  a  bath  in 
the  muddy  waters  of  the  creek  was  somewhat  dubious,  and 
therefore  concluded  that  the  most  judicious  way  was  to  place 
her  where  he  had  taken  her  from.    Accordingly,  just  as  the 


no 


NORTH  SHORE 


day  began  to  break,  he  landed  her  on  the  shore  of  Staten  Is- 
land, and  the  woman  and  her  child  departed  for  their  home. 
The  Frenchman  did  not  wait  long  after  he  had  discharged  his 
passengers  before  he  saw  the  other  boat  approaching.  Tne 
poor  woman,  as  soon  as  she  saw  her  husband  pacing  the  shore 
with  his  short,  quick  step,  knew  that  a  storm  was  at  hand,  and 
no  sooner  had  she  placed  her  foot  upon  the  land,  than  her  hus- 
band caught  her  by  the  arm,  gesticulating  and  vociferating 
furiously  in  French,  and',  as  Blum  supposed,  was  about  tj 
strike  her;  so,  stepping  in  between  them  he  endeavored  to 
pacify  the  angry  man,  by  showing  him  that  the  woman  had  not 
made  the  mistake,  and  that  they,  the  men,  were  responsible 
for  it,  if  there  was  any  responsibility  about  the  matter;  and 
that  if  he  abused  the  woman  for  it,  he  would  knock  him  down. 
This  ended  the  matter  on  the  shore,  but  it  afforded  a  deal  of 
amusement  to  the  neighborhood  for  a  long  time  after. 

This  story  is  evidently  based  on  historical  fact  as  we  read 
in  "The  Documentary  History  of  the  State  of  New  York,"  by 
E.  B.  O'Callaghan,  M.D.,  vol.  2,  1850,  as  follows: 

Affidavit  Against  Col.  Bayard  &  Certain  Parties  on  Staten 

Island. 

"New  York  Septem.  25,  1689. 
"A  declaration  of  Barthomew  Le  Roux 

"First — That  we  had  a  relation  in  this  City,  that  the  Papist 
upon  Station  Island  did  threaten  to  cut  the  inhabitants  throats 
&  that  the  People  had  left  their  Plantations  &  were  run- 
ning the  woods,  &  some  gone  with  their  familys  in  their  boats 
and  lay  upon  the  river  &  further  they  threatened  to  come  and 
burn  this  City  &  that  Mr  Dela  Prearie  had  arms  in  his  house 
for  fifty  men" 

"The  Answer  from  Col.  Bayard  to  the  Company  As  to  the 
matter  of  Staten  Island,  it  was  false.    .    .    .  " 

To  see  how  conditions  were  they  went  to  Staten  Is'd  &  the 
affidavit  continues  as  follows: 

"And  so  accordingly  we  went  the  next  Morning  to  Staten 
Island  where  the  first  news  we  had  was,  that  they  were  afraid 
to  Lay  in  their  beds  for  fear  of  the  Papists  &  that  they  heard 
that  Mr  De  la  Prearie's  house  there  were  arms  for  a  hundred 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


in 


men,  we  Spoke  to  Mr.  Vincent  a  frenchman,  that  had  left  his 
house  &  had  taken  his  family  in  his  boat  &  went  and  lay  upon 
the  river  for  fear  of  these  relations,  Mr  Mark  told  us  that  about 
eighteen  or  Nineteen  Persons  had  run  from  their  houses  about 
the  Place  where  he  lived  &  lay  in  the  woods  through  these 
fears — 

"The  above  relation  I  am  ready  to  depose  upon  my  Oath  as 
witness  my  hand" 

Signed    Bartho:  Le  Roux 
Peter  White 

before  Jacob  Leisler 

The  Oystermen  of  Staten  Island 

An  old  newspaper  of  1857,  *n  an  article  on  the  North  Shore, 
states  that  "Port  Richmond  is  dear  to  the  lovers  of  oysters,  and 
these  delicious  bivalves,  the  delight  of  city  epicures,  have 
made  fortunes  for  many  of  the  dealers."  Because  of  the  fresh 
waters  of  the  Passaic  and  the  Hackensack  rivers  the  Mariners' 
Harbor  shore  was  the  best  known  place  for  the  floating  and 
freshening  of  oysters,  and  the  advantages  of  that  custom 
caused  Mariners'  Harbor  to  become  a  fisherman's  village  and 
a  town  of  prosperity. 

Everyone  has  heard  of  the  oystermen  of  Port  Richmond 
and  Mariners'  Harbor,  and  before  beginning  a  search  it  did  not 
seem  a  difficult  prospect,  but  every  one  of  those  who  have 
made  oyster  history  along  the  North  Shore  has  taken  the  long 
trip,  and  among  their  descendants  few  can  be  found  whose 
memory  is  helpful,  except  in  two  instances,  those  of  Calvin  D. 
Van  Name  and  Azel  F.  Merrill. 

The  Troubles  of  the  Oysterman 

The  old  oysterman,  when  a  success,  combined  all  the  ele- 
ments with  which  the  legendary  hero  is  usually  endowed.  He 
must  be  a  first-class  seaman  with  the  "dogged  as  does  it"  ele- 
ment strong  within  him.  Fighting  Father  Neptune  from  the 
deck  of  a  small,  two-masted  schooner  when  the  old  gentleman 
is  on  the  rampage  takes  a  combination  of  dare-devil,  sound 
judgment  and  stick-ativeness  that  is  only  given  to  the  few.  On 
top  of  that,  he  must  be  ready  at  all  times  to  take  a  gambler's 


112 


NORTH  SHORE 


chance,  must  be  able  to  see  his  fortune  swept  away  almost  in 
an  instant,  and  come  back  with  a  stiff  upper  lip. 

Oyster  planting  is  one  of  the  greatest  gambles  in  the  world. 
All  a  man  had,  his  entire  fortune,  lay  on  the  bottom,  say  of 
Princes  Bay,  or  was  contained  within  the  hull  of  a  two-masted 
schooner,  pounding  its  way  up  the  coast  from  Virginia.  More 
things  can  happen  to  an  oyster  bed  than  the  landlubber  can 
conceive.  The  seed  oyster  is  a  very  delicate  young  thing;  at 
first  its  shell  is  as  thin  as  paper  and  as  brittle  as  character ;  al- 
ways the  fish  are  snooping  around  for  broken  shells.  Then 
there  are  the  starfish  in  their  millions;  they  clamp  themselves 
around  the  shell  and  wait  until  the  poor  thing  opens,  which  it 
must  do,  whereupon  the  oyster  forsakes  its  home  to  abide  with 
the  starfish.  Next  comes  the  drumfish,  whose  strong  jaws 
and  sharp  teeth  reduce  the  shells  of  the  young  oyster  to  splin- 
ters, while  the  oyster  itself  goes  to  increase  the  strength  of 
those  very  jaws  that  have  proved  its  own  undoing.  Then 
there  is  the  oyster  drill,  one  of  the  worst  enemies  of  small 
oysters  and  other  bivalves ;  it  rasps  a  small  round  hole  through 
the  shell  and  proceeds  to  suck  out  the  contents  at  leisure.  The 
boring  sponge  comes  next  in  the  procession  and  often  com- 
pletely honeycombs  an  oyster  shell,  making  hundreds  of  gal- 
leries and  holes,  thus  destroying  its  rightful  owner. 

Now,  if  there  are  any  oysters  left,  Nature  sends  a  storm 
which,  with  sand  or  mud,  or  both,  covers  up  the  beds  and 
smothers  the  oysters.  Then  there  is  the  human  pirate  who 
tongs  other  people's  oysters  after  dark.  If  caught,  he  was 
promptly  shot,  just  like  his  western  brother,  the  horse  thief; 
but  catching  him  was  the  difficult  thing,  as  he  could  hear  the 
approaching  boat  long  before  he  could  be  seen,  and  many  a 
boatload  of  stolen  oysters  found  its  way  to  the  New  York 
market.  All  of  which  makes  one  wonder — "why  plant  oys- 
ters?" However,  the  oysterman  figures  that  if  he  has  one 
successful  season  in  three  he  will  be  in  a  position  to  lay  up  for 
himself  riches  where  moth  and  rust  corrupt  and  thieves  break 
through  and  steal. 

But  that  is  not  all.  Let  us  now  look  at  the  perils  of  the 
deep:  For  this  purpose  we  would  call  attention  to  the  fate 
that  befell  Captain  William  Henry  Van  Name.  The  Captain 
sailed  out  of  New  York  Bay,  bound  for  a  load  of  Virginia  seed 
oysters,  with  the  cash  on  board  to  pay  for  them.  He  made 
good  weather  all  the  way  down,  secured  his  load  and  started 


Capt.  David  Van  Name  House,  2784  Richmond  Terrace,  1924. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


113 


for  home.  Every  cent  he  owned  was  in  that  schooner.  He  left 
nothing  undone  that  a  good  sailor  should  do,  but  charts  in 
those  days  were  not  what  they  are  now,  and  those  that  Captain 
William  Henry  must  depend  on  did  not  go  into  detail  quite  as 
minutely  as  was  good  for  the  mariner.  As  a  result,  on  a  par- 
ticularly bright,  calm  Sunday  morning,  the  schooner  piled  up 
on  Brigantine  Shoals,  and  there  she  lay  hard  and  fast.  There 
was  nothing  to  do  but  wait  in  the  hope  that  the  tide  would 
float  her,  but  she  had  plowed  her  way  too  deep  into  the  sand 
and  the  Captain,  with  a  grim  face,  ordered  out  the  shovels,  and 
after  a  few  hours'  hard  work  his  entire  fortune  was  tossed  over- 
board, for  the  load  must  go  in  order  to  lighten  the  schooner. 
Did  the  Captain  throw  up  his  hands  in  despair?  Not  he;  he 
merely  "blessed  his  eyes  in  sailor  wise,"  and  once  the  schooner 
was  in  deep  water,  made  all  sail  for  New  York  where  his  credit 
was  good. 

The  Housmans 

Beginning  with  Nicholas  Avenue,  the  way  was  strewn  with 
the  old  homes  of  the  oystermen :  Captain  Dave  Decker  or 
Uncle  John  Post,  with  a  Housman  and  a  Cubberly  or  a  Gar- 
rett, a  Crittenden,  Bush,  Barkalow  and  many  more,  the  familiar 
spirits  of  two  or  more  generations  ago,  but  who  are  now  mere 
names,  and  their  dwelling  places  empty  shells  or  inhabited  by 
those  who  knew  them  not. 

Just  beyond  Nicholas  Avenue,  No.  2328  Richmond  Terrace, 
stands  the  former  fine  old  home  of  Israel  D.  Johnson,  with  its 
tall,  fluted  columns.  Mr.  Johnson  throve  by  trade;  his  ship 
chandlery  stood  almost  opposite  on  the  water  side  and  above 
it  was  a  public  hall,  known  as  Huguenot  Hall.  Immediately 
adjoining  was  the  principal  ways  where  the  oystermen  hauled 
out  to  make  sure  that  everything  was  shipshape  from  truck  to 
keel.  Every  block  was  examined  and  scraped,  every  part  of 
the  standing  rigging  tested,  and  when  the  oysterman  sailed 
out  of  New  York  Bay  he  knew  he  was  fit  to  meet  the  perils  of 
the  deep. 

Passing  the  oil  tanks,  we  come  to  the  one  time  home  of 
Captain  George  Housman,  No.  2380  Richmond  Terrace,  on 
the  east  corner  of  John  Street,  another  dwelling  whose  tall 
columns  proclaim  it  to  have  been  the  home  of  a  "rich  oys- 
terman." 

On  the  opposite  or  west  corner  of  John  Street  formerly 


II4 


stood  the  modest  little  stone  homestead  of  the  Housman  fam- 
ily, which  was  destroyed  some  years  since.  There  is  hanging 
on  the  wall  of  the  Perine  House  a  handsome  dress  sword  which 
was  found  tucked  away  among  the  rafters  of  this  old  house. 
Its  history  is  not  known,  but  the  nicked  blade  rather  suggests 
that  the  D'Artagnan  who  wore  it  was  something  of  a  blade 
himself. 

Captain  John  J.  Housman,  of  a  generation  that  has  passed, 
was  rough,  rude,  ungrammatical,  profane  and  strong  of  in- 
vective, but  withal  a  man  of  character.  Outspoken  and  fearless 
to  a  degree,  he  was  a  sterling  good  citizen  whose  word  was  as 
good  as  his  bond.  He  was  of  the  best  class  of  oystermen.  He 
was  extremely  savage  in  his  attacks  on  the  pro-slavery  element, 
being  one  of  the  blackest  of  Black  Republicans.  When  the 
Union  Army  set  out  to  reach  Richmond,  Va.,  by  way  of  the 
James  River,  Mariners'  Harbor  furnished  many  skilled  pilots 
who  knew  every  foot  of  the  way,  selected  from  its  oyster  fleet 
by  Capt.  John  J.  Housman. 

Another  Housman  of  a  still  earlier  generation  was  a  Cap- 
tain Jacob.  He  was  a  deep-sea  skipper  who  traded  up  and 
down  the  coast,  and  they  do  say  that  he  did  not  refuse  to  do  a 
little  wrecking  when  such  came  to  his  hand.  There  are  strange 
tales  along  the  Florida  Keys,  which  in  those  days  were  wild  and 
secluded,  concerning  the  Captain,  whose  body  lies  buried  in 
the  sands  of  Indian  Key,  one  of  the  lonely  isles  of  the  coral 
reef.  There  are  also  whispered  stories  at  the  Staten  Island  end 
of  mysterious  night  arrivals  of  his  vessel,  hurried  unloadings 
and  getting  away  before  dawn.  Tales  vary  as  to  how  he  met 
his  death,  but  none  of  them  agree  with  his  tombstone.  The 
more  generally  accepted  theory  among  the  Palm  Islands  is  that 
he  was  murdered  by  his  crew. 

Jacob  Housman's  tombstone  reads : 
"Here  lyeth  the  body  of  Capt.  Jacob  Housman  Formerly  of 
Staten  Island  State  of  New  York.    Proprietor  of  this 
Island  who  died  by  accident  May  ist  1841 
,    aged  41  yrs.,  11  months. 

"To  his  friends  he  was  sincere,  to  his  enemies  he  was 
kind,  to  all  men  faithful. 
"This  monument  is  erected  by  his  most  disconsolate  though 
affectionate  wife  Elizabeth  Ann  Housman 
"Sic  transit  Gloria  Mundi." 


Capt.  Garrett  Post,  3260  Richmond  Terrace,  1924. 


RICHMOND    TERRACE  115 


When  the  above  was  copied  by  Ralph  M.  Munroe  the  stone 
was  lying  on  the  beach  of  Indian  Key,  on  the  easterly  side; 
probably  just  where  it  was  skidded  from  the  vessel  from  which 
it  was  landed. 

David  Decker  to  Dr.  Satterthwait 

At  No.  2648  Richmond  Terrace,  east  corner  of  Wright 
Street,  formerly  stood  a  tall,  frame  house  with  overhanging 
eaves,  the  home  of  old  David  Decker,  that  good  old  soul,  who 
did  not  hesitate  to  proclaim  to  all  who  passed,  by  means  of 
Biblical  exhortations  lettered  large  over  his  gate  and  door, 
his  faith  in  a  future  life.  The  chief  of  these,  which  was  illu- 
minated at  night,  read:  "No  one  goes  to  Hell  except  through 
his  own  agency." 

No.  2672  Richmond  Terrace,  on  the  west  corner  of  Wright 
Street,  another  of  the  tall  columned  dwellings,  is  thought  to 
have  been  an  old  Decker  home.  It  was  purchased  many  years 
ago  by  Captain  Garrett  P.  Wright  for  one  of  his  children. 

As  we  pass  Simonson  Avenue  we  come  to  the  site  of  the 
Lake-Croak  house,  whose  walls  were  taken  down  in  1920.  The 
material,  which  included  old  Dutch  brick,  was  used  for  a  re- 
taining wall  along  the  front  of  the  property.  The  origin  and 
history  of  this  old  house  are  lost.  Joseph  Lake,  "a  man  of  the 
18th  Century,"  is  the  first  known  owner.  Presumably  he  sold 
to  one  Croak  about  1850,  as  it  is  one  of  the  earliest  recollec- 
tions of  Uncle  John  Croak.  The  farm  included  the  property 
now  traversed  by  Wright,  Lake  and  Simonson  Avenues,  and 
extended  back  from  the  water  to  the  Old  Place  Road. 

No.  2746  Richmond  Terrace,  between  Simonson  and  Van 
Name  Avenues,  a  long,  red,  frame  dwelling  with  a  box-bor- 
dered path  from  the  gate  to  the  front  door,  a  comfortable, 
homey  looking  place,  was  formerly  the  home  of  Dr.  Satter- 
thwaite,  a  surgeon  in  the  Union  Army  during  the  Civil  War. 

Captain  David  Van  Name 

No.  2784  Richmond  Terrace,  west  corner  of  Van  Name 
Avenue,  stands  the  former  home  of  Captain  David  Van  Name, 
one  of  the  old  Vikings  of  the  oyster  trade.  The  Captain,  born 
in  1794,  was  one  of  the  first  two  men  to  plant  oysters  in  Ameri- 
can waters.  He  began  at  an  early  age  to  plant  and  develop  the 
oyster  grounds  in  this  vicinity,  and  by  181 7  had  entered  the 


n6 


NORTH  SHORE 


business  as  a  dealer.  He  had  the  usual  ups  and  downs  of  the 
trade,  stormy  winds  might  blow  and  hard  luck  give  him  a 
crack  now  and  then,  but  he  was  made  of  the  right  stuff  and, 
deserving  much,  received  much. 

He  bought  this  farm,  a  beautiful  site  from  which  he  could 
see  his  own  boats  come  up  the  Kill,  and  built  the  house  in  the 
fifties.  It  was  built  by  days'  work  and  of  the  best  material  to 
be  found ;  in  fact,  in  the  same  thorough  manner  he  did  every- 
thing. Captain  David  belonged  to  that  choice  and  small  com- 
pany whose  word  is  as  good  as  its  bond. 

Having  in  mind  that  money  is  a  trust  to  be  administered 
wisely  for  the  benefit  of  the  community,  he  erected  a  Baptist 
church  in  Mariners'  Harbor.  Curiously  enough  the  bell  of  this 
church  tolled  for  the  first  time  at  the  Captain's  own  funeral, 
in  1857. 

The  Captain  left  five  sons.  All  became  prominent  as  oys- 
ter planters,  while  as  citizens  they  continued  to  keep  the  family 
name  at  a  premium. 

Captain  Garrett  P.  Wright  and 
the  Brothers  Thompson 

No.  2814  Richmond  Terrace,  east  of  Van  Pelt  Avenue,  a 
building  stands  whose  tall  columns  are  marred  by  a  one-story 
shack  which  arises  from  the  sidewalk  and  appears  to  house 
the  Christian  Church,  while  the  main  building  bears  the  name 
"The  Colonial."  This  was  built  by  Captain  Garrett  P.  Wright 
some  sixty  or  more  years  ago,  one  of  the  rich  oystermen.  In 
its  day  it  was  one  of  the  show  places  of  the  Shore  Road. 

Nos.  2848  and  2852  Richmond  Terrace,  just  west  of  Van 
Pelt  Avenue,  were  the  homes  of  two  brothers,  George  and  John 
Thompson,  both  in  the  oyster  business. 

The  Thompson  brothers  were  old  Staten  Islanders.  To 
them,  says  Mattie  De  Hart,  belongs  the  honor  of  inventing  the 
oyster  float  "that  we  drank  oysters  on."  "Drinking"  oysters 
has  to  the  uninitiated  a  mysterious  sound,  but  it  is  a  natural 
process  whereby  the  oyster  is  freshened  and  the  color  of  the 
meat  whitened  by  bringing  the  oysters  from  their  natural 
habitat  in  salt  water,  and  leaving  them  for  a  period  in  the 
brackish  water  of  these  parts,  where  the  fresh  water  of  the 
Passaic  and  Hackensack  rivers  mingles  with  the  salt  tide.  An 
oyster  will  close  his  shell  tight  if  placed  in  fresh  water  and  die 


Oyster-lay  Boat,  or  Float.    Shore  near  Billopp  House. 
September,  1924. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


117 


rather  than  open  it,  but  when  placed  in  brackish  water  it  gladly 
"drinks"  it,  and  in  the  process  improves  its  flavor,  looks  and 
plumpness. 

Before  the  day  of  the  Thompsons  it  was  the  custom  to 
dump  oysters  on  the  bottom  here,  and  when  the  oystermen 
came  to  "tong"  them  up  again,  it  was  a  laborious  process  in 
which  a  percentage  was  lost.  It  occurred  to  these  oystermen 
that  a  submerged  float  on  which  oysters  could  be  spread  would 
save  trouble  and  loss,  and  now  oyster  floats  are  known  wher- 
ever the  oyster  is  gathered  for  market.  This  occurred  some 
sixty  or  seventy  years  ago,  when  DeHart  was  a  boy.  Several 
of  these  old  floats  were  lying  on  the  beach  at  Tottenville  as  late 
as  May,  1924. 

Barnes,  Post,  Lockman,  Van  Name,  Bush 

At  No.  2876  Richmond  Terrace,  between  Van  Pelt  and  De 
Hart  Avenues,  stands  a  noticeable  large,  square  brick  house 
with  stuccoed  front,  a  style  different  from  any  other  house 
along  the  entire  North  Shore.  This  was  built  by  Stephen  D. 
Barnes  during  the  palmy  days  of  the  oyster  trade.  The  main 
room  has  an  elaborately  carved  marble  mantel,  which  the  pres- 
ent owner  states  cost  $500.  Of  its  kind,  it  is  a  beautiful  piece 
of  work.  The  inside  window  shutters  slide  between  the  walls, 
and  everywhere  is  ample  evidence  that  Captain  Barnes  was  a 
rich  oysterman. 

No.  2890  Richmond  Terrace,  one  door  east  of  Central  Ave- 
nue, was  the  former  home  of  Captain  Garret  Post. 

No.  3060  Richmond  Terrace  was  the  dwelling  place  of  John 
Lockman,  better  known  to  his  friends  and  neighbors  as  "Daddy 
Lockman."  His  Dutch  ancestors,  we  are  informed,  spelled  the 
name  Lorckman. 

No.  31 14  Richmond  Terrace.  Here  abode  Uncle  Charlie 
Van  Name,  who  kept  a  grocery  at  the  foot  of  Bay  Avenue. 
His  memory  lingers  among  the  neighbors  in  a  way  to  make 
one  feel  that  he  was  something  more  to  those  among  whom  he 
dwelt  than  a  mere  purveyor  of  sugar  and  flour. 

The  second  house  west  of  Mersereau  Avenue  was  the  dwell- 
ing of  Captain  Jake  Bush.  Just  after  the  Civil  War  broke  out, 
Captain  Bush  left  Virginia  with  a  load  of  oysters.  For  some 
reason  he  ran  into  Chincoteague  inlet,  and  was  there  boarded 
by  the  Rebels,  who  took  the  Captain's  son  on  shore  and  sent 


n8 


NORTH  SHORE 


him  to  Richmond,  where  he  was  confined  in  Libby  Prison  and 
died  from  the  hardships  to  which  he  was  exposed.  This  so 
preyed  on  the  old  father's  mind  that  he  finally  committed 
suicide. 

More  Old  Salts,  Including  Tom  Cropper 

The  third  house  west  of  Mersereau  Avenue  was  that  of 
Captain  Dan  Cubberly,  a  deep-sea  skipper,  who  sailed  the 
schooner  William  Van  Name. 

Other  old  skippers  of  the  vicinity  were  Captain  John  Crit- 
tenden, who  sailed  the  schooner  Barnet  Jones,  which  he  was 
compelled  to  abandon  at  sea,  and  later  sailed  the  schooner 
William  Young;  Captain  Stephen  B.  Wood,  who  sailed  the 
schooner  Samuel  Wood;  Captain  James  Pearsall,  who  sailed 
the  schooner  William  McGee,  which  was  lost  on  Brigantine 
Shoals ;  Captain  Abe  Gibson,  who  sailed  the  schooner  Jacob  I. 
Housman;  and  many  others. 

There  were  forty  or  fifty  oyster  boats  which  left  here  every 
fall  for  Virginia. 

Tom  Cropper  who  sailed  the  schooner  William  DePew, 
and  William  Cropper  who  sailed  the  schooner  Garrett  P. 
Wright,  were  two  more  of  the  old-time  skippers.  The  former 
was  once  bringing  the  DePew  out  of  York  river,  loaded  as 
deep  as  she  could  swim,  and  running  before  the  wind  under  a 
two-reefed  foresail ;  the  yawl  boat  had  been  taken  inboard  and 
lashed  on  deck  in  anticipation  of  heavy  weather.  A  sailor  was 
standing  on  the  rail  throwing  the  lead,  and  as  they  got  into 
rough  water  the  skipper  warned  him  to  get  down  on  deck,  but 
he,  being  in  a  mood  for  showing  off,  stayed  where  he  was  until 
a  cross  sea  tripped  the  schooner,  and  the  lurch  threw  him  over- 
board. He  hung  on  to  the  leadline  for  a  brief  space,  but  the 
vessel  was  going  so  fast  that  it  almost  pulled  him  out  of  the 
water,  and  he  had  to  let  go,  but,  being  a  swimmer,  he  merely 
floated  on  the  surface,  waiting  for  help.  In  the  meantime  the 
Captain  got  the  schooner  up  into  the  wind,  ran  up  the  jib  and 
beat  back  to  windward  of  the  man,  put  the  yawl  overside  and 
picked  up  the  sailor.  The  very  first  remark  the  latter  made 
on  reaching  the  schooner,  was:  "Did  you  save  my  cap? 
There  were  two  good  cigars  in  it."  Captain  Tom  was  so  mad 
at  the  man's  lack  of  appreciation  of  the  trouble  he  had  caused 
that  he  almost  threw  him  back  into  the  water,  and  the  words 
he  said  took  the  sailor's  mind  entirely  off  his  lost  cigars. 


Example  of  Dutch  Architecture.    3373  Richmond  Terrace,  1913. 


Dutch  Oven  House, 


3581  Richmond  Terrace,  1922. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


119 


Others  of  Those  Who  Went 

Down  to  the  Sea  in  Schooners 

On  Post  Lane,  east  side,  stands  the  former  home  of  Captain 
Peter  Post,  a  one-time  pilot  of  note.  These  old  pilots  knew 
every  inch  of  the  bottom  from  Sandy  Hook  to  Cape  Henry. 
They  knew  it  so  well  that  they  could  tell  just  where  they  were 
by  the  nature  of  the  material  brought  up  on  the  sounding  lead. 
These  leads  have  a  hole  in  which  lard  is  put,  and  this  catches 
enough  of  the  sand  or  mud  to  show  the  character  of  that  part 
of  the  ocean  floor  over  which  they  have  passed.  They  knew 
little  of  the  science  of  navigation,  and  ran  their  schooners  by 
rule  of  thumb,  but  were  abundantly  supplied  with  hard,  com- 
mon sense,  backed  by  experience,  and  seldom  made  a  slip. 

No.  3132,  between  Mersereau  and  Grand  View  Avenues, 
Captain  Abe  Corson,  who  ran  oysters  from  York  River,  Va.,  up 
to  the  oyster  market;  not  a  regular  oysterman,  though  a  sea- 
faring man. 

No.  3202,  old  Uncle  Michael  Van  Name,  a  waterman  at  one 
time,  but  mostly  a  farmer,  lived. 

No.  3260,  east  corner  Arlington  Avenue,  was  the  house  of 
Captain  Garrett  Post,  an  oysterman  thirty-five  or  more  years 
ago.  The  Captain  kept  the  pound,  and  according  to  a  friendly 
gentleman  with  whom  we  became  acquainted  as  we  journeyed, 
"Us  boys  used  to  drive  the  stray  cows  to  him  and  get  fifty 
cents  each." 

No.  3294 — Captain  Mose  DeHart,  a  Virginia  oysterman. 

No.  3308 — Captain  John  Decker,  a  Virginia  oysterman;  al- 
so an  oyster  planter  in  Princes  Bay. 

No.  3332 — Captain  Edward  DeHart,  a  Virginia  oysterman, 
a  brother  of  Mose  DeHart. 

No.  3364 — Captain  David  M.  Decker,  a  Virginia  oysterman. 

These  and  others  would  run  down  to  Virginia  in  the  fall, 
and  locating  on  some  river,  they  bought  up  and  prepared  the 
oysters  which  they  sold  to  others,  who  did  the  transporting. 
These  were  known  as  "natural"  oysters,  and  under  the  name 
of  "Virginia"  oysters  were  regarded  in  the  New  York  market 
as  a  luxury.  They  were  not  cultivated,  as  is  often  done  in  the 
north,  but  grew  wild,  so  to  speak,  and  were  free  to  any  who 
wished  to  gather  them. 

No.  3373,  on  the  waterside,  formerly  the  dwelling  of  Uncle 


120 


NORTH  SHORE 


John  DeHart,  is  the  old  DeHart  homestead.  It  is  said  to  be 
200  years  old.  It  is  a  simple  frame  house  with  a  curious  small 
projection  built  along  its  entire  front.  This  is  certainly  not 
ornamental,  and  its  use  is  not  evident  to  the  casual  observer. 
"They  tell  me,"  says  Mattie  DeHart,  "that  our  people  landed  in 
New  York  in  1625,  and  came  to  Staten  Island  in  1640." 

No.  3410,  west  corner  Holland  Avenue,  is  commonly  called 
the  DeHart  house.  It  was  built  by  a  grand-uncle  of  Mattie 
DeHart. 

Deviled  Tongue 

The  older  inhabitants  of  Mariners'  Harbor  tell  a  story 
which  suggests  that  deviled  tongue  may  have  originated  on 
Staten  Island.  Its  heroine  is  one  Suky  Rowland,  whose  lively 
imagination  and  nimble  tongue  furnished  much  scandalous 
argument  in  the  neighborhood.  In  other  words,  the  lady's  spe- 
cialty was  disseminating  information  of  a  class  that  Mr. 
Shakespeare  says  lives  after  us. 

She  touched  on  high  and  low  with  equal  impartiality  until 
the  entire  region  tired  of  her  industrious  propaganda,  and 
there  was  much  talk  of  doing  something  that  would  take  the 
edge  off  Suky's  tongue.  But,  according  to  tradition,  before  any 
working  plan  could  be  formulated  the  greatest  mischief  maker 
of  all  times,  evidently  fearing  lest  he  would  lose  his  standing 
in  the  community,  undertook  to  curb  friend  Suky. 

As  Suky  told  it,  the  incident  happened  as  she  stepped  off 
the  bridge  that  carried  Richmond  Terrace  over  DeHart  brook. 
At  this  moment  the  Devil  popped  out  from  nowhere,  and  firmly 
grasped  our  gossip  by  her  unruly  member.  Giving  it  a  yank 
that  should  have  made  it  looser  than  ever,  he  uttered  a  warning 
that  one  more  scandalous  story  would  bring  him  again,  and 
that  the  consequences  would  be  both  serious  and  lasting.  And 
they  do  say  that  ever  after  Suky  was  a  model  little  citizen. 

This  tale  was  Harbor  property  when  Mattie  DeHart  was 
a  boy,  seventy  or  more  years  ago,  and  even  then  it  had  been 
rolling  down  the  generations  for  no  one  knew  how  long. 

Matthias  DeHart  on  Flies,  Oysters  and  the 
Board  of  Health 

Mattie  DeHart,  a  lifelong  resident  of  Mariners'  Harbor,  was 
something  of  a  character.   He  believed  in  flies,  which  he  never 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


121 


swatted,  and  he  did  not  believe  in  the  Board  of  Health.  The 
latter  ruined  the  oyster  business  whereby  Mr.  DeHart  gained 
his  livelihood  and  something  more.  What  though  the  micro- 
scope does  show  typhoid  germs  on  oysters  taken  from  these 
waters,  "aren't  we  all  covered  with  bugs?"  says  Mr.  DeHart. 
Put  a  microscope  on  any  of  us,  and  learn  the  truth.  "An  oyster 
is  one  of  the  most  particular  things  in  the  world;  he  won't 
drink  anything  that  is  nasty."    We  again  quote  Mr.  DeHart. 

As  for  flies,  his  reasons  were  equally  to  the  point.  In  the 
days  when  the  Millikens  were  overlords  of  this  region,  they 
filled  in  their  waterfront  with  garbage.  When,  later,  the  pres- 
ent owners  dug  into  this  mess  for  building  purposes,  it  proved 
so  overripe  that  even  Mr.  DeHart's  dinner  sat  but  lightly  in  the 
saddle,  in  a  manner  of  speaking.  Now  there  came  a  plague  of 
flies  upon  the  land  such  as  never  was  since  the  days  of  Pharaoh. 
So  numerous  were  they  that  Mr.  DeHart  averred  it  was  im- 
possible to  distinguish  between  man  and  woman  twenty  feet 
away.  Those  flies  were  sent  for  a  purpose,  said  he,  none  other 
than  to  rout  out  that  nest  of  uncleanness. 

The  Gentle  Hessian 

In  the  center  of  what  is  now  South  Avenue,  and  near  the 
water,  formerly  stood  a  Van  Name  house;  the  old  well  is  still 
in  existence,  back  of  Shotwell's  store  or  house.  One  of  this 
family  was  the  grandmother  of  Mattie  DeHart.  She  told  him 
how  the  British  and  Hessians,  when  intending  a  raid  on  New 
Jersey,  came  along  this  shore  and,  gathering  up  the  young 
men,  would  compel  them  to  ferry  the  troops  across  to  the  main- 
land. The  boys  were  naturally  averse  to  this,  but  the  invaders 
had  a  way  of  prodding  them  with  their  bayonets  and  otherwise 
inducing  compliance  that  was  effective  if  not  convincing.  The 
boys  were  sometimes  severely  hurt. 

Downey  Shipbuilding  Plant 
and  Mr.  Bowman 

The  plot  now  occupied  by  the  Downey  Shipbuilding  plant 
has  something  of  interest  for  those  who  would  know  Mariners' 
Harbor. 

The  last  old  stone  house  along  this  road  is  set  in  the  high 
wooden  fence  here.  This  was  a  Post  homestead,  originally  a 
DeHart  farm.    During  the  Revolution  this  was  a  favorite 


122 


NORTH  SHORE 


camping  ground  for  the  Hessians  when  they  were  intent  on  a 
raiding  expedition  in  Jersey.  The  officers  at  such  times  used 
the  farmhouse  as  headquarters.  At  times  one  of  these  was 
Major  Andre,  who  seems  to  have  made  an  effort  to  be  agreeable 
to  the  inhabitants.  It  is  common  tradition  thit  he  fraternized 
with  the  boys  of  the  neighborhood.  Matthias  DeHart  has 
stated  that  his  great-great-uncle,  also  named  Matthias,  was 
then  a  boy  of  fifteen  or  sixteen  years  of  age.  He  seems  to  have 
talked  much  to  his  daughter  of  the  pleasant  impression  Andre 
made,  and  she  in  turn  transmitted  this  to  the  Matthias  DeHart 
who  was  born  November  14,  1845,  and  died  July  11,  1921. 

About  thirty-five  years  ago  this  old  stone  house  was  such 
a  memorable  object  of  rural  beauty  that  those  who  knew  it 
then  still  recall  its  enchantments.  Then  the  building  was  al- 
most covered  with  vines  that  even  encircled  the  old  chimney 
and  made  of  it  as  fit  a  place  for  love  in  a  cottage  as  was  to  be 
found. 

Some  sixty  years  ago  this  spot  presented  quite  a  different 
scene  to  that  which  Mr.  Downey  offers  us  of  today.  Then 
George  Bowman,  a  wealthy  New  York  lawyer,  lived  here  in 
grand  style,  with  everything  that  makes  a  cultivated,  rich 
man's  home  attractive,  including  a  few  beautiful  daughters.  It 
was  somewhere  to  go  for  the  rest  of  the  North  Shore  when 
it  was  all  dressed  up. 

In  those  days  the  roadbed  from  Port  Richmond  through 
Mariners'  Harbor  was  made  of  oyster  shells,  than  which  noth- 
ing was  better  for  driving.  Thus,  between  Mr.  Bowman,  his  eats 
and  his  daughters,  and  the  wonderful  stretch  of  fine  road,  it 
not  infrequently  looked  on  pleasant  afternoons  as  though  all 
New  Brighton  was  taking  the  air  in  these  parts. 

In  the  course  of  time  Mr.  Bowman,  having  in  mind  to  in- 
crease his  spending  capacity,  proceeded  to  lay  out  his  place  so 
that  those  who  were  seeking  home  sites  might  share  his  beau- 
tiful outlook.  But  the  plan  did  not  work  out  for  some  reason, 
and  instead  of  increasing  his  wealth  he  seems  to  have  become 
involved  to  such  an  extent  that  he  lost  even  that  he  had. 
When  old  and  poor,  a  mortgage  on  his  property  was  foreclosed, 
and  he  and  his  family  were  turned  out  to  meet  a  world  that  had 
no  further  use  for  them. 

Mr.  Van  Name  recalls  that  some  fifty  years  ago  the  last 
flock  of  wild  pigeons  he  ever  saw  was  fluttering  among  the 
trees  of  this  place. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


123 


Striking  Oil  at  Mariners*  Harbor 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  oil  has  been  discovered  on  the  farm 
of  Capt.  Moses  Van  Name  at  Mariners'  Harbor.  One  day  last 
week  a  little  boy,  who  was  playing  on  a  wet  portion  of  the 
grounds,  found  a  greasy  substance  adhering  to  his  hands  after 
placing  them  in  a  stream  which  was  oozing  from  the  grounds. 
Being  unable  to  divest  them  of  the  unpleasant  odor  of  kero- 
sene, he  went  home  and  showed  them  to  his  father,  and  he 
examined  the  spot  indicated  by  the  boy  and  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  little  chap  had  "struck  ile."  Some  of  the  liquid 
was  subsequently  scooped  up  and  taken  to  some  skillful  per- 
son in  the  city  for  analysis  and  examination,  and  he  pro- 
nounced it  an  excellent  quality  of  oil.  Today  persons  are  ex- 
pected from  the  city  with  the  necessary  tools  to  commence 
boring  a  well,  and  it  is  confidently  expected  that  an  abundant 
supply  of  oil  will  in  a  short  time  be  pumped  up.  Since  the  dis- 
covery of  the  oil  the  farm  is  said  to  have  become  worth  over 
two  hundred  thousand  dollars.  If  the  operation  succeeds,  other 
wells  will  be  sunk  in  the  vicinity. —  [Richmond  County  Ga 
zette,  March  15,  1865. 

The  Moses  Van  Name  farm  extended  back  from  the  waters 
of  Newark  Bay  to  the  rear  of  the  lots  on  Old  Place  Road,  and 
included  what  are  now  Andros  and  Mersereau  Avenues. 

Son-in-law  Cornelius  Mersereau  resided  on  the  tract.  In 
the  rear  of  his  dwelling  and  some  400  feet  from  the  road  lay 
a  hollow  in  which  all  the  surplus  rainwater  of  its  immediate 
vicinity  stagnated.  It  was  on  the  surface  of  this  pond  that  the 
discovery  of  oil  was  made. 

Conceive,  now,  a  quiet  fishing  village  far  removed  from  the 
wicked  world.  Nothing  could  be  more  lacking  in  excitement 
than  life  in  such  a  place  before  the  telephone,  the  automobile 
and  the  trolley  came  to  its  aid.  All  by  itself,  with  only  its  own 
little  scandals  to  talk  about,  and  all  of  these  talked  threadbare ; 
with  few  books  and  only  an  occasional  weekly  newspaper  to 
keep  it  in  contact  with  the  world,  anything  that  would  relieve 
the  dreary  monotony  was  eagerly  welcomed. 

Such  was  Mariners'  Harbor.  Fish  and  oysters  were  its 
daily  portion,  and  unless  someone  grew  an  ear  of  corn  with  an 
even  number  of  rows  around  its  cob,  or  an  uneven  (we  are 
not  sure  which  is  the  extraordinary  departure  from  corn-cob 
custom),  there  was  little  to  do  or  think  about  except  to  eat, 
sleep  and  go  oystering  (not  roystering). 


I24 


NORTH  SHORE 


One  can  imagine  then  the  grand  and  glorious  thrill  that 
came  to  Mariners'  Harbor  when,  early  one  morning,  as  on  the 
wings  of  the  wind,  the  news  flew  from  door  to  door  and  from 
lip  to  lip,  that  oil  had  been  discovered  on  the  Moses  Van  Name 
farm.  Breakfast  tables  were  forsaken;  every  small  boy  whose 
mother  would  let  him,  was  soon  scudding  under  bare  poles,  or, 
more  literally,  on  them,  for  the  exciting  spot.  Our  authority 
was  one  of  these;  and  parents  were  not  long  in  following  in 
the  footsteps  of  their  children. 

Obviously  there  was  oil  on  the  face  of  the  waters ;  everyone 
both  great  and  small  had  a  finger  in  the  pool,  and  was  soon 
possessed  of  ocular  and  olfactory  evidence  to  that  effect,  and, 
more  for  the  wonder,  sufficient  oil  had  been  skimmed  from  the 
surface  to  fill  a  pail.  If  there  was  so  much  oil,  there  must  be 
more  where  this  came  from.  Every  man,  woman  and  child  was 
busy  on  theories  or  otherwise,  according  to  temperament;  some 
flirting  with  the  green-eyed  goddess,  some  figuring  out  how 
the  children  of  Uncle  Moses  had  become  rich  over  night,  and 
some,  who  owned  adjoining  farms,  doing  a  few  mathematics 
on  their  own  account. 

Never  was  there  such  wild  excitement  in  Mariners'  Harbor. 
There  was  oil  and  rumors  of  oil,  while  the  oysters  enjoyed  a 
holiday.  The  discovery  of  an  obviously  oily  spot  on  a  foot- 
path helped  to  fan  the  flame,  for  no  one  would  believe  that 
Cornelius  Mersereau  had  upset  the  family  oil  c^n  at  this  spot. 
Wherever  two  or  three  were  gathered  together,  the  sudden 
opulence  of  Mariners'  Harbor  was  the  one  theme.  But  as 
time  passed  on  and  the  spot  on  the  path  dried  up  and  there 
came  no  more  oil  on  the  surface  of  the  Van  Name  pond,  the 
talk  gradually  slackened  and  the  excitement,  after  a  few  spas- 
modic convulsions,  died  down,  and  finally  it  was  eclipsed 
by  the  baby's  first  tooth  or  some  other  equally  exhilarating 
incident,  and  thus  ended  the  nine-day  wonder.  No  attempt  to 
drive  a  well  was  made  or  seriously  contemplated.  The  news- 
paper tale  seems  to  have  been  based  quite  as  much  on  hope  as 
fact,  but  no  one  holds  a  newspaper  to  strict  accountability  in 
such  matters. 

Notes  on  the  Van  Name  Family 

By  Calvin  D.  Van  Name. 
In  the  Eighteenth  Century,  the  plantation  of  Aaron  Van 
Name  bordered  on  Newark  Bay  and  commenced  at  the  line  of 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


125 


what  is  now  the  Matthias  DeHart  farm  at  Holland  Avenue, 
and  extended  along  Newark  Bay,  including  Shooters  Island, 
to  the  west  line  of  the  John  Lackman  farm  at  Lockman 
Avenue. 

Aaron  Van  Name,  as  well  as  cultivating  his  plantation,  was 
an  oyster  planter,  and  planted  in  Newark  Bay,  New  York  Bay 
and  Raritan  Bay.  In  all  likelihood  the  Van  Names  who  pre- 
ceded Aaron  were  likewise  oyster  planters  as  well  as  farmers. 
They  were  not  confined  to  one  way  in  making  a  livelihood.  If 
the  crops  failed  on  the  farm  they  had  the  bays.  It  is  said,  and 
seems  to  be  well  sustained,  that  there  was  as  much  product 
in  value  in  the  bays  per  acre  as  there  was  upon  the  land. 

The  original  Van  Name  homestead  remained  standing  on 
the  high  land  until  it  was  removed  for  the  opening  of  Arling- 
ton Avenue  and  the  Shore  Road  about  twenty-five  years  ago. 
In  this  house  were  born  Moses  Van  Name,  Mrs.  Catherine 
Wood,  the  mother  of  Dr.  J.  Walter  Wood,  and  Captain  Michael 
Van  Name. 

The  whole  frontage  of  Mariners'  Harbor,  from  Holland 
Hook  to  Morning  Star  Road,  was  in  large  plots  sometimes 
called  plantations.  The  northwest  corner  of  the  Island  was 
the  plantation  of  the  DeHarts  ;  coming  east  the  next  plantation 
was  that  of  Aaron  Van  Name  referred  to;  further  east,  that 
of  John  Lockman  (more  properly  John  Lackman)  ;  then  that 
of  Van  Pelt,  and  that  of  Joseph  Lake. 

The  population  at  this  time  was  upon  the  smaller  pieces  of 
land  on  Old  Place  Road,  now  called  Washington  Avenue,  and 
not  upon  Newark  Bay.  There  was  a  tide  mill  on  the  Old  Place 
Road  where  corn  and  grain  were  ground,  thus  giving  to  the 
Old  Place  importance  and  some  life.  At  the  time  referred  to, 
the  Shore  Road  existed,  but  it  consisted  mostly  of  spaces  be- 
tween high  and  low  mater  mark,  making  a  winding  trail. 

Staten  Island  Sound,  which  was  reached  from  Old  Place 
Creek,  which  is  on  the  Old  Place  Road,  was  a  mine  for  seed 
oysters  for  two  hundred  years,  as  well  as  was  Newark  Bay, 
which  was  used  for  planting. 

Calvin  Decker  Van  Name 

There  seems  to  be  practically  nothing  in  print  concerning 
the  oystermen  of  Mariners'  Harbor.  Everyone  who  was  active 
in  the  palmy  days  of  the  oyster  trade  has  long  since  gone. 


126 


NORTH  SHORE 


Consequently,  we  feel  ourselves  fortunate  in  finding  in  Mr. 
Van  Name  a  good  memory  of  the  fireside  tales  of  his  youth, 
and  a  willingness  to  talk. 

Mr.  Van  Name  was  a  grandson  of  that  David  Van  Name, 
mentioned  elsewhere.  The  generations  of  this  famiy  appear  to 
have  been  a  procession  of  high-minded  men  who  combined 
business  acumen  with  character.  His  grandfather  was  such  a 
one,  and  all  his  grandfather's  five  sons  stood  for  the  best  that 
the  citizenship  of  the  Island  knew.  According  to  Plutarch,  "It 
is  indeed  a  desirable  thing  to  be  well  descended,  but  the  glory 
belongs  to  our  ancestors." 

By  the  time  it  became  necessary  for  Calvin  to  choose  his 
walk  in  life,  it  was  obvious  that  the  oyster  business  was  on  the 
decline.  Whether  it  was  because  of  this,  or  whether  it  was 
because  his  active  mind  preferred  the  stimulus  that  legal  work 
brought  to  it,  we  do  not  know;  but,  whatever  the  reason,  he 
made  good  in  the  law,  as  did  his  forebears  in  the  oyster  trade. 
It  is,  as  Plutarch  explains,  a  fine  thing  to  come  into  the  world 
with  such  a  background  as  Mr.  Van  Name  had,  but  how  much 
finer  to  pass  on  to  the  next  generation,  as  he  does,  the  family 
traditions  untarnished. 

Mr.  Van  Name  died  suddenly  on  September  14,  1924,  while 
still  active  in  his  profession  and  the  duties  of  a  good  citizen. 
He  is  buried  in  the  little  cemetery  at  Graniteville  on  the  west- 
erly side  of  the  Willow  Brook  Road. 

West  of  Western  Avenue 

From  Western  Avenue  to  the  Elizabethport  Ferry,  the 
ownership  of  the  road  has  been  in  dispute.  The  street  railway 
company  claimed  to  own  this  portion  of  the  way,  and  would 
neither  improve  it  nor  allow  the  city  to  do  so.  The  matter  was 
finally  taken  up  by  the  authorities,  and  on  data  furnished  by 
George  W.  Tuttle,  the  Corporation  Counsel  found  that  the 
Shore  Road  was  first  laid  out  on  April  7,  1705,  by  the  Commis- 
sioners of  Highways,  with  its  westerly  terminus  indefinite; 
that  a  patent  for  a  ferry  to  Elizabethport  was  granted  June  10, 
1736;  that  the  road  was  again  laid  out  by  the  Commissioners 
of  Highways  on  March  14,  1774,  after  which  it  is  given  fre- 
quent mention  in  the  records. 


Last  House,  Old  Place  Road  1917. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


127 


A  Ghost  in  the  Making 

As  Mr.  Van  Name  has  shown,  Old  Place  is  naturally  a  part 
of  this  North  Shore  story;  consequently  we  will  proceed 
thither  by  way  of  Western  Avenue. 

Western  Avenue  does  not  lend  itself  to  story  except  as  re- 
gards the  Reverend  Dr.  Kenny.  The  Doctor  was  a  graduate  of 
Oxford,  editor  of  a  religious  paper,  and  one  of  the  most  promi- 
nent of  the  old  "Bible  House  group."  But  the  Doctor  had 
asthma,  and  thereby  hangs  a  true  ghost  story. 

In  some  way  not  now  known,  he  discovered  that  the  air  in 
these  lowland  parts  disagreed  with  his  affliction  and  added 
much  to  his  comfort.  Consequently  he  built  or  bought  or  bor- 
rowed some  manner  of  boat  in  which  he  and  his  family  floated 
in  and  out  of  the  creeks  that  serpentine  the  marsh  fringe  of 
this  western  part  of  Staten  Island.  But  our  reverend  friend 
desired  a  more  firm  foundation  under  foot  and  made  several 
attempts  to  purchase  a  bit  of  land  here  for  a  permanent  habi- 
tation. In  those  far-off  days  the  people  hereabouts  did  not 
care  to  part  with  the  land  which  had  come  down  to  them 
through  many  generations. 

Finally,  however,  he  did  secure  part  of  the  fairly  worthless 
sand  heap  known  as  Battle  Hill.  Here,  on  the  western  side  of 
Western  Avenue,  just  south  of  Lawrence  Creek,  he  gathered 
together  material  for  the  building  of  a  home.  Whatever  could 
be  had  for  nothing  strongly  appealed  to  the  Doctor,  as  it  does 
to  most  of  us — broken  pieces  of  terra  cotta  blocks  and  other 
scraps  of  building  material  for  the  walls,  while  from  the  waters 
came  clam  and  oyster  shells  which  he  burned  for  the  lime  with 
which  to  cement  them  together.  Thus  a  habitation  arose  in 
this  solitude  more  serviceable  than  elegant.  The  building  was 
but  one  story  in  height  with  a  flat  roof,  about  35  feet  long  and 
nearly  as  wide,  and  here  the  builder  with  his  wife  and 
daughters  spent  their  days. 

As  time  went  on  one  of  the  girls  married  and  the  other  fell 
off  the  railroad  trestle  nearby,  and  finally  Dr.  Kenny  slept  with 
his  fathers  and  the  house  stood  empty.  It  was  a  lonesome  spot 
at  best;  the  neighborhood  was  marsh  and  waste  sand  with  a 
growth  of  scrub  and  rushes.  Several  times  those  passing  heard 
dreadful  screams,  as  of  a  woman,  coming  from  the  deserted 
building,  but  none  were  so  bold  as  to  investigate — rather  did 
the  belated  traveler  hurry  about  his  own  business.    Thus  the 


128 


NORTH  SHORE 


place  came  by  a  bad  reputation  and  creepy  stories  began  to 
circulate,  while  the  character  of  the  harmless  man  of  God  suf- 
fered considerably  at  the  hands  of  the  gossips. 

Finally  came  an  artist — one  Kelly —  with  a  friend  who,  de- 
siring to  sketch  the  salt  meadows  and  finding  this  vacant  house, 
took  possession,  although  warned  that  the  place  was  haunted. 
When  a  fire  was  attempted  the  chimney  refused  to  draw,  and 
the  pair  were  all  but  smoked  out  and,  to  crown  their  troubles, 
a  squall  came  up  which  brought  with  it  a  brief  but  copious 
downpour.  This  kept  the  artists  busy  finding  dry  spots,  and 
right  on  the  top  of  their  troubles  came  a  series  of  shrieks  from 
the  direction  of  the  chimney,  that  sent  cold  chills  up  and  down 
a  couple  of  spinal  columns,  such  as  they  had  never  known 
before. 

The  rain  ceased  as  suddenly  as  it  had  come,  the  clouds 
broke  and  the  moon  shone  down  on  the  waste  of  marsh  and 
sand ;  and  our  heroes,  gathering  their  scattered  wits  and,  still 
game,  ventured  to  look  up  the  chimney,  but  all  was  dark  and 
unseeable.  Hardly  had  they  withdrawn  their  heads  when  a 
long,  rasping,  nerve-shattering  scream  broke  from  the  chimney, 
and  one  of  the  men  in  the  excitement  of  the  moment  thrust  a 
revolver  up  the  flue  and  fired  twice.  The  response  was  even 
more  dreadful  than  anything  they  had  heard  before.  The 
shrieks  were  appalling,  and  when  one  of  them  looked  up  again 
and  saw  two  bright,  piercing  eyes  staring  down  at  him,  it  was 
too  much,  and  both  men  left  for  civilization,  nor  stood  on  the 
order  of  their  going. 

When  daylight  came  these  two  intrepid  adventurers  con- 
cluded to  investigate.  Now,  it  seems  that  whoever  closed  the 
house  had  covered  the  top  of  the  chimney  with  a  piece  of  tin 
which  had  partly  loosened.  Certain  winds  would  twist  this, 
and  the  consequent  noises,  under  the  favoring  circumstances  of 
night  and  isolation,  sounded  like  the  cries  of  a  lost  soul,  while 
the  bright  eyes  proved  to  be  nothing  more  than  the  bullet  holes 
through  the  tin  made  vivid  by  a  brilliant  moon. 

When  last  seen  the  place  was  occupied  by  Italians  and  was 
as  unexciting  and  prosaic  as  only  an  Italian  can  make  it. 

The  good  Mr.  Kenny  is  buried  in  Hillside  Cemetery,  near 
Graniteville,  and  the  gravestone  reads.  "Rev.  James  E.  Kenny. 
Born  in  Bath,  Eng.,  Sept.  10,  1827.  Died  Oct.  8,  1900.  He 
fought  the  fight,  The  victory  won ;  The  Crown  is  his." 


RICHMOND    TERRACE  129 


Old  Place 

We  have  it  on  the  authority  of  Mr.  Ira  K.  Morris  that  this 
locality  was  known  to  the  Indians  as  Pon-na-wa-wah,  "a  place 
of  safety."  It  was  here,  says  Mr.  Morris,  that  a  remnant  of 
the  Indians  retreated  following  a  defeat  at  the  hands  of  the 
northern  Indians.  Here  they  found  a  safe  hiding  place  among 
the  thickets  that  covered  these  sand  dunes. 

Next  came  the  white  man,  who  monopolized  all  the  good 
ground  and  crowded  the  aborigines  onto  this  land  of  sand  and 
scrub.  Consequently,  here  was  the  last  Indian  settlement  on 
Staten  Island.  The  many  finds  of  Indian  relics  through  these 
parts  tend  to  confirm  history  as  writ  by  Mr.  Morris. 

Mr.  Clute,  who,  with  Raymond  M.  Tysen,  blazed  Staten 
Island's  historic  trail,  accounts  for  the  name  "Old  Place"  as 
follows :  For  a  long  time  there  was  but  one  house  here.  This 
being  a  central  spot  for  a  widely  scattered  population,  the 
house  was  used  for  religious  services  until  it  became  so  dilapi- 
dated that  the  meeting  place  was  changed.  The  new  location, 
however,  was  not  to  the  liking  of  the  many,  and  the  attendance 
dwindled  to  such  an  alarming  extent  that  it  was  voted  to  move 
back  to  the  "Old  Place", — and  ever  after  the  name  persisted. 

The  road  that  led  thither  was  naturallv  known  as  the  Old 
Place  Road  until  the  city  fathers  changed  the  name  that  had 
a  local  flavor  to  Washington  Avenue,  which  means  nothing. 

The  old  tide  mill  that  made  this  locality  one  of  importance 
in  the  days  of  small  things  naturally  gathered  a  village  about 
it.  Again  historian  Morris  comes  to  the  rescue  with  a  quota- 
tion from  "an  old  book,  worn  with  handling  and  stained  with 
age,"  which  he  tells  us  he  found  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  George 
T.  Jones  of  Mariners'  Harbor.  From  this  Mr.  Morris  learned 
that  the  mill  was  erected  for  Judge  David  Mersereau,  in  1803, 
by  John  Hilleker,  the  leading  Staten  Island  builder  of  those 
days.  It  began  as  a  one-story  building,  but  during  the  War 
of  181 2  it  was  leased  to  the  State,  when  a  second  story  was 
added. 

Mr.  Morris  discovered  in  some  "old  records"  that  Indians 
and  slaves  were  among  those  who  labored  for  hire  in  the  con- 
struction of  the  mill  at  a  wage  of  6d  per  day.  For  some  rea- 
son not  explained,  these  did  not  live  at  peace,  one  with  the 
other.  One  little  thing  led  to  another  until  somebody's  head 
was  cracked  and  a  pitched  battle  ensued,  the  slaves  being 


130 


NORTH  SHORE 


pitched  within  the  mill  while  the  Indians  were  pitched  without. 
It  took  the  militia  to  iron  out  the  trouble.  As  a  result  the  red 
men  found  themselves  in  the  red  jail  in  Richmond,  while  the 
slaves  were  turned  over  to  their  masters  to  be  reasoned  with. 
"Five  and  twenty  lashes  at  the  whipping  post,"  which  stood 
across  Mill  Road  from  St.  Andrew's  Church,  gave  a  certain  em- 
phasis to  the  reasoning. 

Some  time  during  the  earlier  history  of  the  mill,  a  third 
story  and  attic  were  added,  and  so  it  stood  until  destroyed  by 
fire  on  December  13,  1896.  At  first  a  brother-in-law  of  Judge 
Mersereau,  Abram  Decker,  managed  the  mill;  following  him 
came  Charles  Wood.  Then  a  New  York  firm,  headed  by  a  Mr. 
Johnson,  ground  so  much  grist  here  that  it  used  its  own  boats 
to  convey  the  product  to  its  place  of  business  in  the  city. 

Andrew  Prior  was  the  miller  after  the  Johnson  firm  retired, 
and  last  came  David  and  Thomas  Mallett.  By  this  time  Min- 
neapolis was  doing  to  the  small  grist  mills  of  the  country  what 
John  D.  Rockefeller  did  to  its  small  oil  dealers,  and  shortly 
after  1870  the  Old  Place  mill  turned  its  attention  to  the  manu- 
facture of  mineral  paint.  A  portion  of  the  material  used  was 
drawn  from  the  iron-tinted  clay  of  Todt  Hill  or  from  the  mines 
on  Jewett  Avenue.  It  also  ground  cocoanut  shells ;  then,  quite 
naturally,  became  a  feed  mill  under  the  management  of  W.  L. 
Stephens  and,  later,  Thomas  Smith. 

About  1890  or  1 89 1  the  old  wheel  ceased  to  turn;  its  years 
were  accomplished. 

According  to  Captain  John  J.  Decker,  who  was  born  eighty 
odd  years  ago,  the  old  tide  mill  was  built  by  Israel  Prior,  the 
Captain's  great-grandfather.  It  seems  to  be  well  established, 
however,  that  the  mill  stood  here  long  before  Prior's  time,  and 
it  appears  probable  that  Captain  Decker  may  have  had  in  mind 
the  adding  of  the  third  story,  as  that  would  be  event  enough 
to  keep  Old  Place  talking  for  many  a  day. 

The  Captain  stated  that  the  mill  wheel  turned  on  both  the 
flood  and  ebb  tides,  but  on  the  former  only  when  it  was  strong- 
est. At  high  tide  the  gate  was  closed  and  the  water  was  used 
as  required.  The  old  Prior  house,  the  miller's  home,  still 
stands  on  the  north  side  of  the  road,  the  first  building  east  from 
the  mill  site. 

On  Christmas  Day,  1885,  one  of  the  authors  visited  Old 
Place  Mill  and  examined  the  machinery,  trying,  in  some  cases 


RICHMOND    TERRACE  131 


without  success,  to  make  out  its  use.  On  the  floor  there  were 
a  great  number  of  labels  printed  in  blue,  reading : 

"Carpenter's  6  Lbs  Graham  Flour  Manufactured  at  the 
Summerville  Mills.    S.  I." 

These  labels  had  no  doubt  lain  about  the  structure  for  a 
number  of  years,  for  in  the  office  the  many  papers  scattered 
about  bore  dates  of  1875  and  1877. 

The  Voice  for  a  Mile 

In  Old  Place,  west  of  Western  Avenue,  there  once  lived  a 
row  of  Van  Pelts  who,  it  would  appear,  were  the  original  loud 
speakers.  At  least  the  following  story,  which  comes  from  an 
eminently  dependable  source,  rather  suggests  that  long  dis- 
tance calls  were  an  old  story  to  Mariners'  Harbor  even  before 
the  day  of  the  telephone. 

Before  relating  the  incident  it  might  be  well  to  explain  that 
work  was  rather  slack  during  the  winter  months  and,  as  a  con- 
sequence, certain  of  the  oystermen  traveled  to  the  foot  of  West 
10th  Street,  New  York,  every  morning,  where  there  was  al- 
ways a  job  opening  oysters. 

Among  those  who  thus  improved  the  shining  hours  were 
four  brothers  Van  Pelt.  Three  of  these — Henry,  Frank,  and 
Benjamin — lived  in  Old  Place ;  the  fourth,  Garry,  on  Van  Pelt 
Avenue,  just  south  of  St.  Clement's  Church,  Mariners'  Harbor. 
When  the  three  started  for  the  ferry  and  as  they  rounded  the 
corner  of  Old  Place  Road  and  Western  Avenue,  they  all,  with 
one  accord,  lifted  up  their  voices  and  called  on  Garry  to  get 
up,  and  he,  giving  heed  unto  the  warning,  arose  as  he  was  bid, 
ate  his  breakfast  and  made  haste  to  the  foot  of  Van  Pelt 
Avenue,  where  he  met  his  brothers.  It  is  stated  as  a  fact  that 
all  Mariners'  Harbor  awoke  with  Garry,  and  there  was  much 
noise  of  lamentation  on  the  part  of  those  who  would  have  pre- 
ferred a  little  more  sleep. 

Our  informant  states  that  the  call  of  the  Van  Pelt  boys 
could  be  heard  a  mile ;  a  scale  laid  on  the  map  indicates  that 
the  distance  above-mentioned  is  some  two  miles  and  a  half. 
To  the  analytical  mind  there  may  come  a  doubt  if  a  serious 
attempt  were  made  to  reconcile  the  figures  here  given.  Our 
own  efforts  have  been  wholly  concentrated  on  furnishing  the 
bare  facts  in  the  case. 


132 


NORTH  SHORE 


Exchanged  a  Bullet  for  Her  Husband 

Mrs.  Van  Pelt  was  a  valiant,  pugnacious  little  woman  who 
would  have  pleased  Washington  Irving  and  been  the  heroine 
of  one  of  his  tales  if  he  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  have  been 
acquainted  with  the  lady.  She  lived  during  the  Revolution  on 
that  part  of  the  Island  lying  nearest  to  Elizabethtown,  New 
Jersey,  which  was  the  scene  of  much  skirmishing.  The  good 
citizens  of  Elizabeth  had  the  habit  of  coming  over  the  kill  in 
the  night,  to  call  on  their  Staten  Island  neighbors,  and  their 
visits  betook  largely  of  the  nature  of  surprise  parties.  On  one 
of  these  excursions  they  knocked  at  the  door  of  the  Van  Pelt 
homestead,  calling  the  occupants  by  name,  telling  them  that  the 
Americans  were  coming,  and  when  the  unsuspecting  Van  Pelt 
opened  the  door,  they  told  him  the  Americans  had  come,  and 
proceeded  to  lead  him  across  Bridge  Creek  meadows  to  their 
boat  at  the  shore. 

His  little  spouse  was  left  behind.  She  was  only  about  four 
feet  tall,  but,  though  of  diminutive  stature,  she  was  courageous 
of  spirit  and,  following  her  husband's  captors  with  the  family 
musket,  wounded  one  and  put  the  others  to  flight.  Thus  did 
this  little  wife  get  her  husband  back  again,  exchanging  him  for 
a  bullet. 

Another  Van  Pelt 

While  we  are  discoursing  on  the  Van  Pelt  family,  it  might 
be  well  to  dispose  of  Andrew  Prior  Van  Pelt,  better  known  as 
Prior  Van  Pelt.  He  is  to  be  used  as  an  illustration  of  the 
simple  life  and  the  ease  with  which  it  was  pursued  in  Old 
Place. 

As  we  understand  it,  Prior's  working  capital  consisted  of 
something  in  the  nature  of  a  skiff,  a  pair  of  oyster  tongs,  a 
crabbing  outfit  which  included  a  string  and  a  piece  of  meat, 
an  eel  spear,  and  an  abundant  supply  of  philosophy.  With  his 
boat  he  frequented  Old  Place  creek  where  he  planted,  grew 
and  gathered  "mill-pond  oysters,"  a  name  applied  to  oysters 
that  are  brought  up  in  a  fresh  water  atmosphere,  so  to  speak. 
When  oystering  was  slack,  with  his  string  and  meat  he  en- 
ticed the  unwary  crab  from  the  depths  of  the  creek.  During 
the  winter,  Mr.  Van  Pelt  cut  holes  through  the  ice  and,  with 
his  spear,  jabbed  for  eels  that  had  gone  to  bed  in  the  nice, 
warm  mud  on  the  bottom  of  the  creek. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


133 


Thus  we  see  that  he  drew  his  entire  sustenance  from  Old 
Place  Creek;  that,  being  his  own  boss,  he  worked  when  and 
where  and  how  he  pleased;  that  he  could  work  much  or  little 
as  seemed  to  him  good,  and  we  have  no  doubt  that,  could  we 
but  locate  his  tombstone,  it  would  be  found  that  he  lived  a 
hundred  years  or  more.  It  is  worry  that  kills  and,  provided 
Prior's  wife  and  children  had  the  same  brand  of  philosophy  as 
himself,  it  would  seem  as  though  he  had  as  little  to  worry 
about  as  one  of  those  fuzzy  little  midgets  that  flutter  through 
a  whole  long  summer  day. 

Witchcraft 

For  some  time  past  a  family  living  in  that  secluded  spot 
known  as  the  Old  Place  have  had  a  family  affliction,  and  were 
under  the  impression  that  it  was  caused  by  witchcraft,  as  no 
other  cause  evinced  itself.  So,  on  Tuesday  last,  preparations 
were  made  to  compel  the  evil  one  to  show  itself,  in  the  follow- 
ing manner :   An  image  was  made  and  placed  in  due  position, 

when  Capt.  was  selected  to  fire  the  fatal  shot.  The 

Captain  took  deliberate  aim,  and  proved  his  skill  in  the  art  of 
war  by  dropping  the  image  most  beautifully;  after  which  a 
committee  was  appointed  to  go  and  see  if  a  certain  person  under 
suspicion  had  given  up  the  ghost.  But  what  was  their  sur- 
prise to  find  the  suspected  party  in  the  act  of  partaking  of  a 
good  dinner,  and  totally  unaware  of  any  attempt  having  been 
made  against  its  life.  It  was  thus  proved  that  either  there  was 
no  witch  in  the  trouble,  or  that  the  Captain  had  failed  to  send 
his  instrument  of  death  to  a  fatal  spot.    So  endeth  the  lesson. 

— [Richmond  County  Gazette,  Sept.  12,  1866. 

It  is  well  known  to  those  who  have  made  a  study  of  this 
subject  that  nothing  but  a  silver  bullet  can  kill  a  witch.  No 
doubt,  had  the  Captain  used  such,  the  result  would  have  been 
far  different  and  of  direct  benefit  to  the  community. 

Old  Place  Witch 

Benjamin  Decker,  some  sixty  years  ago,  and  then  an  old 
man,  told  his  small  grandson  the  following  tale,  which  the 
grandson  has  told  to  us.  (This  is  placed  here  because  it  goes 
to  show  that  the  fear  of  witches  in  Old  Place  had  a  firm 
foundation  in  fact) : 


134 


NORTH  SHORE 


It  seems  that  a  certain  woman  of  the  neighborhood  was 
long  suspected  of  practicing  the  black  arts  to  the  detriment  of 
those  who  stayed  home  nights  and  behaved  themselves.  As  is 
usual  in  such  cases,  no  one  was  found  who  would  take  the 
lead  in  any  investigation,  and  hence  things  went  from  bad  to 
worse,  until  finally  matters  reached  such  a  stage  that  it  was 
necessary  to  do  something.  Cream  turned  sour  on  perfectly 
bright,  clear  nights ;  the  pigs  refused  to  fatten  for  the  killing ; 
the  babies  had  the  measles  and  the  mothers  dropped  so  many 
stitches  in  their  knitting  that  they  could  never  get  a  pair  of 
stockings  finished,  and  altogether  there  was  nothing  but  toil 
and  trouble  the  place  over. 

Finally  it  became  necessary  to  act,  and  a  band  of  brave 
souls  was  formed  for  the  purpose.  On  a  particularly  dark  night 
the  chosen  few  undertook  to  watch  and  follow.  The  witch  ap- 
peared this  night  without  her  broomstick,  which  was  accepted 
as  evidence  that  an  evil  spell  was  to  be  cast  on  someone  handy 
by.  But  instead  of  making  for  the  village,  her  way  lay  out  the 
Old  Place  Road  toward  the  west,  whereat  those  skulking 
among  the  black  shadows  of  the  roadside  much  wondered.  On 
she  went  to  the  footpath  that  led  down  to  Old  Place  Creek, 
and  down  this  she  turned  to  where  the  black  waters  coiled  and 
bubbled,  and  here  from  among  the  sedges  they  saw  her  drag 
out  the  old  wrack  of  a  horse  long  dead,  whose  dried  bones 
rattled  on  the  midnight  air  as  though  signalling  to  fiends  that 
were  known  to  frequent  the  marsh  rivulets  on  the  Jersey  side. 
This  she  launched  into  the  creek  and,  crawling  within  its  hol- 
low ribs,  she  sailed  without  any  apparent  effort  across  the 
Sound  and  vanished  among  the  tall  grasses  that  grew  rank 
along  its  shore. 

Whether  her  time  had  come  and  she  went  to  meet  the 
Devil,  or  whether  she  found  more  congenial  spirits  on  the  other 
side,  no  man  knoweth;  but,  as  she  came  not  back,  her  former 
neighbors  did  not  disturb  themselves  to  inquire,  and  in  Jersey 
or  in  an  even  warmer  clime  we  must  leave  her. 

The  hovel  she  had  formerly  occupied  was  given  over  to  the 
owl  and  the  bat,  and  until  its  last  stick  rotted  into  the  ground 
the  place'  was  known  to  be  haunted.  For  long  years  thereafter 
shrieks  and  curses  could  be  heard  on  foul  nights  coming  from 
the  direction  of  this  desolate  spot. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


135 


"No  beast  for  his  food 
Dare  now  range  the  wood, 

But  hush'd  in  his  lair  he  lies  lurking; 
While  mischiefs,  by  these, 
On  land  and  on  seas, 

At  noon  of  night  are  a-working." 

Further  Proof 

The  history  of  Case  Bowan  is  further  proof  that  Old  Place 
was  beset  with  witches,  if  further  proof  were  needed. 

Just  when  Case  existed  in  the  flesh  is  not  a  matter  of  of- 
ficial record,  but  it  might  have  been  a  hundred  years  before  the 
tide  mill  was  erected — possibly  more.  That  the  facts  have 
been  Old  Place  property  for  more  than  seven  generations  is  a 
matter  of  proof. 

Case  was  a  nimble-tongued  lady  in  whom  the  truth  was 
not,  if  such  meagre  facts  as  we  have  are  to  be  depended  on. 
She  said  things  concerning  the  neighbors  that  ruffed  the  tem- 
pers of  those  referred  to  and  gave  much  meat  for  gossip  to 
their  friends.  So  even-handed  was  she,  however,  in  the  spread- 
ing of  her  favors,  that  few  there  were  who  had  been  passed  in 
the  distribution.  Then  it  was  further  alleged  that  she  had  a 
way  of  acquiring  other  people's  property  that  appears  to  have 
been  deemed  fraudulent  by  the  losers.  She  was  also  given  to 
being  out  at  unseemly  hours  of  the  night,  when  honest  folk 
were  supposed  to  be  at  home  and  in  bed.  But  it  was  her  ability 
to  make  much  of  airy  nothings — put  a  sting  in  the  spoken 
word,  so  to  speak — that  was  the  chief  cause  of  objection. 

No  one  dared  to  do  anything  that  could  bring  down  her 
wrath  on  himself  and,  consequently,  she  had  more  of  her  own 
way  than  was  good  for  her,  as  we  shall  shortly  see. 

It  seems  that  there  were  those  who  made  a  practice  of 
watching  her  comings  and  goings,  else  the  method  of  her  tak- 
ing off  would  never  have  been  known.  One  dark  and  stormy 
night  when  thunder  pounded  the  heavens  and  the  lightning 
searched  out  every  cranny  of  the  dark,  the  faithful  watchers 
saw  Case  leave  her  home  and  walk  to  a  pepperidge  tree  and 
there,  just  as  a  vivid  flash  of  lightning  revealed  everything,  the 
Devil  was  plainly  seen  to  grab  her  by  the  throat  and  tear  out 
her  tongue.    The  flash  was  gone  in  an  instant,  and  so  was  the 


136 


NORTH  SHORE 


lady.  Nevermore  was  she  heard  of,  but  a  curious  thing  was 
discovered  the  following  day.  When  the  tree  was  visited  it 
was  found  to  be  entirely  surrounded  by  a  circle  of  salt  and,  as 
it  is  well  known  that  a  witch  cannot  cross  a  line  of  salt,  it  is 
obvious  that  she  must  have  gone  either  up  or  down. 

As  the  faithful  reader  of  these  pages  will  note,  this  is  the 
second  known  instance  where  the  Father  of  Lies  has  objected 
to  a  too  great  usurpation  of  his  rights  and  privileges.  Just 
why  he  should  object  is  a  matter  for  debate.  The  authors  of 
this  work  do  not  feel  that  they  are  in  a  position  to  decide  the 
question,  and  prefer  to  leave  it  open  for  those  more  learned  in 
the  subject. 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


137 


CONTENTS 


A 


Able-bodied  paupers   68 

Abolitionists  64,  65.  78 

Adlam,   schoolmaster   96 

Andre,  Major  86,  122 

Another  Van  Pelt  132 

Anti-Slavery  Fair   65 

Anti-Slavery  standard   64 

Aunt  Mary  Ann   40 


B 

Bacon,  Daniel  G   71 

Bailey  House,  The   42 

Bailey,  John  42 

Bakery,  The  first,  on  the  North  Shore  94 
Baptist  Church  in  Mariners'  Habor...ll6 

Bard  Avenue   36 

Bard.  John   41 

Barlow,  Gen   Francis  C   54 

Barnes,    Post,    Lockman,    Van  Name, 

Bush  117 

Barnes,  Stephen  D  117 

Barrett,  Col.  Nathan  89,  91 

Barrett  House   89 

Barrett,  Major  C.  T   90 

Barton,  Samuel  15,  16 

Bedell,  Joseph   9 

Belmont,  August   21 

Belmont  Hall   24 

Bement,  Edward  32,  85 

Berry,  William  G   16 

Birmingham,  E.  F   16 

Bleak  House   33 

Bodine,  John   98 

Boiling  Spring   85 

Bowman,  Case  135 

Bowman,  George  122 

Britton,  Dr.  Nathaniel  L   16 

Burr,  Aaron   103 

Bush,  Capt.  Jake  117 

Bush,  John  94 

Butler,  Chas.  W   16 

C 

Camp  "Washington   7 

Campbell,  G.  W   88 

Capt.    Garrett    P.    Wright    and  the 

Brothers  Thompson  116 

Carroll,  Dr.  Alfred  L   16 

Carroll,  Bradish  J   16 

Castleton  Hotel   21 

Catamarans  48 

CatHn,  George   16 

Cement  House.  The   28 

Chicago  Fire  Incident..   67 

Christopher.  Capt.  Richard   87 

Church  of  the  Ascension   94 

Civil  War  Incident   23 

Civil  War  times   7 

Clark,  Dr.  Ephraim  97.  102 

Clark,  Dr.  James  Guyon  97,  102 

Claus   39 

Cole,  G.  A   16 

Confederate  flag  incident   42 

Continental  Hotel  103 

Copperheads  65 


Corktown   89 

Corson,  Capt.  Abe  119 

Crittenden,  Capt.  John  118 

Croak,  John   115 

Crotheron,  Abraham   25 

Crocheron  farm   39 

Cropper,  Tom  118 

Cropper,  William  118 

Cruser — See  Kruser. 

Cruser  Club   88 

Cruser,  Garret   87 

Cubberly,  Capt.  Dan  118 

Curtis,  George  William  51,  53,  69,  S4 

D 

Dacosta's    Ferry  101 

Danner's  Hotel  103 

David  Decker  to  Dr.  Satterthwait.  .  .  .  115 

Davis  Avenue  64 

Davis.  Thos.  E  3,  22,  23,  25 

Davis,  William  T   16 

Decker,  Abram  130 

Decker  David  115 

Decker,  Capt.  David  M  119 

Decker,  Capt.  Isaac  103 

Decker,  Capt.  John  119 

Decker,  Capt.  John  J  130 

Decker's  Ferry  101 

De  Groot,  Alfred  102 

De  Groot.  Garret  86 

De  Groot  House   86 

De  Groot,  Johannes   86 

De  Hart  brook  120 

De  Hart,   Capt    Edward  119 

De  Hart,  Uncle  John  120 

De  Hart,  Mattie  120 

De  Hart,  Capt.  Mose  119 

De  Hart,  Nicholas   39 

De  Hart  plantation  125 

De  Kay.  Commodore   62 

Delafleld,  H   P   49 

Delafleld,  Richard   49 

Delavan,  Jr.,  Edward  C   16 

Democratic  Club  22 

Deviled  tongue  120 

de  Vries   9 

Dodworth,  Allen   91 

Dongan  Manor,  The   98 

Downey   Shipbuilding   Plant   and  Mr. 

Bowman  121 

Draft  Riots,  A  child's  recollection  of.  69 

Drisler,  Henry   95 

Duer,   Miss   Catharine,   and   the  Har- 
bor bull   41 

Duffle,  General   86 

Dutch  Church  104 

Duxbury,  Ellis   8 

Duxbury  Glebe   8 

E 

Edwards,  Judge  Ogden  99 

Elliott,  Dr.  Samuel  McKenzie   36 

Elliott,  Dr.  S.  R   37 

Elliottville  32,  36 

Exchanged  a  Bullet  for  her  husband.. 132 
Exchange  of  wives,  An  107 


138 


NORTH  SHORE 


F 


Faber,  Eberhard,  house   87 

Faber  house  107 

Factoryiville  32,  89 

Fall  of  Babylon   8 

Fall  of  Rome   8 

Ferry,  An  exclusive   29 

Ferry  to  New  York  17 

Fiddlers'  change    91 

Fiedler,  Ernest  23 

Fort  Hill   9 

Fort  Knyphausen   9 

Fort  Wadsworth   19 

Fountain,  Capt.  Henry   91 

Fountain  Houce   90 

Frost,  Sam'l  H   16 

Further  proof  135 


O 

Gannon,  John   72 

Gardner  house   42 

Garner,  W.  T   61 

Gay,  Sarah  Mifilin   69 

Gay,  Sidney  Howard   64 

Gays,  The   63 

Gentle   Hessian,   The  121 

German  Club  Rooms   18 

Ghost,  A,  in  the  making  127 

Ghost  story  22 

Gibson,  Capt.  Abe  118 

Glory,  The,  that  has  departed   31 

Good  time,  A,  under  difficulties   18 

Goodhue,  Mrs.  Charles   40 

Gould,  Edward  Wanten   36 

Grant,  U.  S.,  almost  a  resident   61 

Gratacap  family   79 

Gratacap,  John  L   81 

Gratacap,  Louis  Pope  31,  46,  79 

Greek  Temple  buildings  22 

Greeley,  Horace   67 

Green — first  caterer   77 

Green,  John  C   21 

Grote,  August  R   29 

H 

Hamilton,  Alexander   30 

Hamilton  Avenue  21 

Hamilton  Park  28 

Harbor  Brook   31 

Harbor  dock  17,  19 

Harding  mansion   22 

Harrison,  Dr.  John  T  106 

Hayley's    lane    63 

Hazard,  R.  M   16 

Henshaw,  Samuel    16 

Hessian  caves   21 

Hessian  Springs  25,  26 

Hewitt,  Abraham  S   17 

Hilleker,  John   129 

Hilleker  s  Ferry  101 

Hollick,   Arthur   16 

Hopper,  De  Wolf   33 

Hornby,  Alex   15 

Horse-boat,  Port  Richmond  101 

Horsecars,  First   17 

House,  First   9 

Housmans,  The  113 

Housman,  Capt.  George  113 

Housman.  Capt    Jacob  114 

Housman.  ('apt.  John  J  114 


Housman,  John  W   16 

Hoyt,  Mrs.  Louis  T   75,  77,  78 

Hoyt,  William   16 

Huguenot  Hall  113 

"Huguenot'',   Steamboat  17,  33 

Hyatt  Street   9 

I— J 

Irish,     The,     Cow-Frog     of  Britton's 

Pond   100 

Jaques  House  106 

Jaques,  Isaac  106 

Jersey  Street   25 

Jewett  Avenue  102 

Jewett,  G.  W   16 

John  Bards,  The   41 

Johnson,  Israel  D  113 

Johnson,  Templeton  74 

Johnsons,  The  William  Templeton.....  83 
Jones,  John  Q   22 

K 

Kenny,  Rev  127 

Kiralfy   8 

Kisrel,  Gustave   53 

Kruser — See  Cruser. 

Kruser  burial  ground   88 

Kruser  farm   85 

Kruser  House   87 

Kruser's  Lane   87 

Kruser  Spring   85 

L 

Labau,  N  B   16 

Lake-Croak   house  115 

Lake,   Joseph  115 

Lake,  Joseph,  plantation  125 

Land  values  in  New  Brighton   36 

Landing,  Still  House   24 

Latourette  House   20 

Law,  George   6 

Lawrence,  Capt.  Thomas   24 

Leng,  Charles  W   16 

Leonowens,  Mrs   91 

Little  Dublin    64 

Livingston   32,  33 

Livingston,  Anson  32,  33 

Livingstons.  The,  and  One  Watson....  33 

Lockman,  John   117 

Lockman,  John,  plantation  125 

Logan  Spring   31 

Lovegrove,  Mr   78 

Lovelace,  Col.  Francis   8 

Lovers'  Lane  21.  87 

Low,  Daniel   15 

Lowell.  Mrs.  C  R  50.  68 

Lowell,  James  Russell   43 

M 

Macgregor's  Inn   91 

Marble  House   21 

Marryat's,  Captain,  Diary  in  America..  3 
Matthias   De   Hart   on   Flies,  Oysters 

and  the  Board  of  Health  120 

Meigs,  Charles   48 

Mersereau,  Cornelius  106,  123 

Mersereau,  Judge  David  103,  129 

Mersereau's  Ferry  101 

Metropolitan  Baseball  Club   7 

Minturn,  Robert  B  51.  54 


RICHMOND  TERRACE 


i39 


Mohawk,  Capsizing  of   61 

More  Old  Salts,   Including  Tom  Crop- 
per  118 

Morgan,  Lafayette   90 

Morgan,  Miss   63 

Mose,  Mrs.,  and  her  daughters   47 

H 

Names,  A  few   9 

National  Purity  Alliance   68 

Natural  Science  Association   16 

Nautilus  Hotel   19 

Neilson,  Ernest  F   16 

Neville,  Capt.  John   29 

New  Bristol  101 

New  Brighton  5,  65 

New  Brighton  Association   3 

New  Brighton  dock   17 

North  Shore  Car  Line   19 

"Nurses  Lane"    36 

O 

Oculist,  The  first   36 

Oil  in  Mariners'  Harbor  123 

Old  Place  129 

Old  Place  Road  129 

Old  Place  witch  133 

"O'd  Shore  Road"    9 

Others  of  those  who  went  down  to  the 

sea  in  schooners  119 

"Our  Neighborhood"    31 

Oyster  float  116 

Oystermen.  The,  of  Staten  Island  Ill 

Oysterman  The,  troubles  of  Ill 

P 

Papers — how  delivered   33 

Parkman,  Francis  48 

Parkman,  John  39 

Pavilion  Hotel    23 

Pearsall,  Capt.  James  118 

Pelton,  Daniel   86 

Pelton  house   86 

Philharmonic  concerts   49 

Pigeons,  Wild,  in  Mariners'  Harbor...  122 

Pine's  store  73,  90 

Pine's  store  and  Lafayette  Morgan....  90 

Pink  Jail   78 

Politics  of  1867    10 

Pon-na-wa-wah   129 

Port  Richmond  101 

Port  Richmond  Hotel  103 

Post,  Capt.  Garrett  117,  119 

Post,  Capt.  Peter  119 

Post  homestead,  A  121 

Prior,  Andrew  130 

Prior,  Israel  130 

Private  theatricals   84 

Progress  Hall  106 

Pro-Slavery  Democrats   65 

Proudfit,  A.  M  22 

Purvis,  Mrs.  Robert   65 

R 

Randall,  Robert  Richard   30 

Red  Jacket,  Steamboat   33 

Richard  R.  Stockton,  Steamboat   33 

Richmond  County  Dramatic  Siciety,  35,  46 

Richmond  Terrace   3 

Richmond  Terrace,  Glories  of   19 


Riots,  The,  of  '63  on  Staten  Island....  76 

Road,  The,  as  it  was   99 

Rolf,  Abraham,  farmhoure   86 

Rolph,  Joseph   88 

Root,  Geo.  M   16 

Rowland,  Suky  120 

Ryers'  Ferry  101 

S 

Sailors  Snug  Harbor   30 

St.  George,  Origin  of  name   6 

St.  George  Waterfront   6 

St.  James  Hotel  103 

St.  Marks  Hotel  21 

St.  Mary's  Church  37,  61,  81 

St.  Peters  Parochial  School,  Site  of....  22 

St.  Vincent's  Hospital   61 

Santa  Anna  26,  49 

Sands,    Louis   41 

Sandy  Ground   39 

Satterthwait,  Dr  115 

Seminary  of  Learning  105 

Seventy-ninth  Highlanders   37 

Shaw,  Anna   51 

Shaw,  Francis  George   60 

Shaw,  Robert  Gould  50,  83 

Shaws,  The,  and  the  Curtises   50 

Shore  House   91 

Silver  Lake  as  it  was   20 

Simonson,  Betsy  102 

Slaves  and  Indians  disagree  129 

Smalley,  G.  W  73 

Smith,  C.  Bainbridge   16 

Smith,  Sanderson   16 

Smith,  Thomas   130 

Smuggling  in  the  olden  time   26 

South  Shore  Car  Line   19 

Spatter-work    45 

Spirit  rappjngs   37 

Staples'  Christmas  trees   4-1 

Stapes,  Mrs.  John  B   44 

Staten  Island,  Old  days  on   16 

Staten  Island  Amusement  Co   7 

Staten  Island  Athlete  Club   8S 

Staten  Island  Civic  League   5s 


Staten    Island    Cricket    and  Baseball 

Club  

Staten  Island  in  1839  

Staten    Island   Institute    of   Arts  and 


Sciences  16.  5s 

"Staten  Islander"  Steamboat   17 

Steamboats,  Early   ih 

Stephens,  W.  L  130 

Still  House  landing   24 

Stokes,  Anron  Phelps   4S 

"Stone  Jug,  The"    29 

Striking  Oil  at  Mariners'  Harbor  123 

Sunny  Lane    21 

T 

Taber,  Charles   61 

Taxpayers'  Association,  1864   11 

Thompson,  George  and  John  116 

Thompson,  Gilbert  L  21.  25 

Thompson.   "Honest"  John  10,  16 

Thorp,  Charles  G  75,  77 

Tide  mill,  Old  Place  125  129 

Tompkins,  Governor  D   D  8.  9.  10,  30 

Tompkins  Guards   91 

Trask,  Capt.  G.  D.  S   31 

Tribune,  New  York   67 


i4o  NORTHSHORE 


Tyler,  Mrs   42 

Tysen,  Judge  Jacob  29.  106 

Tysen,  Raymond  M  30 

U— V 

Underground  railroad   66 

Vanderbilt,  Commodore  Cornelius   17 

Vanderbilt,  Commodore,  birthplace  ..  .107 

Vanderbilt,  Elijah  96 

Van  Name  Family,  Notes  on  124 

Van  Name,  Aaron  124 

Van  Name,  Calvin  Decker  125 

Van  Name,  Uncle  Charlie  117 

Van  Name,  Capt.  David  116 

Van  Name,  Uncle  Michael  119 

Van  Name,  Capt.  Moses,  farm  123 

Van  Name,  Capt.  William  Henry  112 

Van  Pelt,  Andrew  Prior  132 

Van  Pelt,  Henry,  Frank,  Ben,  Garry..  131 

Van  Pelt,  Mrs  132 

Van  Pelt,  Rev.  Peter  1  105 

Van  Pelt  plantation  126 

Van  Pelt's  Seminary  105 

Vatican,  The  42 

Village  Improvement  Society,  N.  B....  67 
Voice  for  a  mile,  The  131 


Walser,  Dr.  Theodore   20 

Ward,  George  A   28 

Ward,  George  Cabot   70 

Washington  Avenue  129 

Watson,  Mr   35 

West  New  Brighton  31 

West  New  Brighton  as  it  was   31 

Westervelt  Avenue   24 

Westervelt,  Dr.  John  S  ,   24 

West  of  Western  Avenue  126 

Weston,  Warren   38 

Willcox  Family,  The  55 

Willcox,  Albert  Oliver   65 

Willcox,  J.  K.  Hamilton  55 

Willcox,  Albert   55 

Willcox,  David   55 

Willcox,  Elizabeth   56 

Willcox,  William  G  57,  58 

Wiman,  Erastus   6 

Winter  night's  journey   18 

Winthrop,  Theodore   83 

Winthrop,  William   84 

Witchcraft  133 

Wood,  Charles  130 

Wood,  Capt.  Stephen  B  118 

Woods,  The,  of  early  days   20 

Wright,  Capt.  Garrett  P  115,  116 

Wright,  George  W   16 

Wyoming,  Steamboat  33 


